


Forgiveness

by tambrathegreat



Series: The Slytherin Redemption Series [7]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drug Addiction, F/M, Flashbacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-19
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2017-11-12 11:37:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 30
Words: 102,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/490468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tambrathegreat/pseuds/tambrathegreat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Severus Snape just wanted peace when he was transported, unwittingly, to America.  What he ends up with is a ready-made family and a very interesting colleague.  COMPLETED</p><p>I do not own Harry Potter.  Any recognizable characters and settings belong to JK Rowling.  I retain all rights to original characters.   I make no money from this endeavor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Severus Snape, over the past three years, had found that he had a fascination with strange place-names. He had drifted around in the new, vast country that he had adopted, from Cummaquid, Massachusetts, to Yellow Jacket, Colorado. He sought variety in the name. Of course, he had to drift from tired, old town to tired, old town, and it was his own damned fault. Albus Dumbledore had followed his directions implicitly when he did not leave a record of Severus' service to the Light. Severus had asked for that when he thought his inevitable outcome in that bloody and preposterous war was death. Now that he was very much alive, thanks to Providence, or spite, or any number of unforeseen circumstances that had left him clinging to the edge of life in a small shack on the outskirts of Hogwarts, he had no choice but to drift from apothecary shop to potions manufacturers to whatever job he could land as he wended his way across the New World. 

His name changed, but the desultory locales remained depressingly similar. 

This country would never be home. The people inhabiting it, both Muggles and wizards, were brash, irritating, and lacking in subtlety. They grated on his nerves at every turn. Admittedly, the people of Great Britain had done the same to him, but at least that had been his birthplace. 

He sat at the bar in a small honky-tonk on the outskirts of this latest place-name, nursing the Yank version of beer. It was horrid; it lacked body and fullness, much like himself. He smirked into the obligatory mirror over the back of the bar. He hadn't changed. He was still bitter, ugly, and an utter bastard. 

A movement in the mirror, festooned with fairy-lights and fake pine garland in deference to the season, caught his eye. It was a young Lakota man, who was in his teens-going-on-one-hundred. Snape could not tell if he was one of the special class of natives that were magical. All he could see, in the hazy backwards-world cast by the mirror, was that the boy was angry and very probably drunk. 

The young-old man sauntered towards the seat next to Snape. He sat down awkwardly, leaned on the bar, and stared directly into Snape's black eyes. The man said, his tone belligerent, “What tribe are you, old man?” 

Severus graced him with the slightest of sneers, and disdainfully turned his attention back to the tasteless beer he had been nursing all evening. The native continued, “I know what tribe you are. You're from the Wannabe tribe.” 

Several other patrons of the establishment laughed derisively. 

Snape had come to Rosebud, South Dakota because he liked the name. He had known nothing of the town's history. The Lakota tribe that inhabited the wasteland had much to be angry about and, unfortunately, Severus was of the right type of skin-tone for this pup to direct his anger towards. He would be leaving tomorrow, but tonight he just wanted a beer. Severus moved to go to a less conspicuous spot, keeping his expression neutral. 

The young man jibed, “Hey, lookee here, it's Custer's last stand.” 

The young man followed Snape's flowing movement, grabbing at Severus' sleeve. Snape paused, looking down at the brown hand on his black jumper. He lifted an eyebrow and knew it was a mistake as he formed the expression. The young man smirked and drew back to hit him. The wizard's reflexes were still finely honed from the war even though it had been over these last three years. Of course, he had been fighting since he was seventeen and some reflexes he would never lose unfortunately. He had the young man down on the ground with his wand pressed to his throat in an instant. Severus stared into the bleak, black eyes of the young man. They could have been his own twenty years ago, or today for that matter. The wizard gritted his teeth and said thickly, “Don't make me.” 

The boy laughed, his white teeth flashing unpleasantly in the dimness of the bar. “ _Ai_ , you gonna hit me with that stick, _wasicu?_ ” 

Severus let go of the boy's shirt, a little more roughly than strictly necessary and he stumbled backwards, finally falling to the ground in a clumsy heap. The boy's head hit the floor with a thud. Snape unbent, and drew himself to his full height. With a contemptuous sneer, he stated, “You're pissed.” 

Severus was an expert on alcohol and idiocy. His father had taught him well on the subject. He turned back to his beer, sitting, shoulders hunched against the glare of the patrons behind him. The bartender, a Cheyenne man in his mid-fifties, said, to the general amusement of those gathered, “Hey, Joseph Pony, you need to get home. Don't be like your uncle and pick fights with dangerous white men. Didn't your _kun si'_ teach you not to bother a powerful _wichihmunge?_ ” 

Severus knew, without translation, that some words of import had been exchanged about him between the two natives. The only sound in the honky-tonk came from the wheezing jukebox, which whispered a tired, old song about love gone wrong. The young man scrambled to his feet, throwing a nervous glance at the wizard. He left the bar, his arrogant saunter more a scramble. Severus settled back into his slow consumption of the beer. Tomorrow he would have to find another strangely-named place to which to drift.

&*&*&

Two in the morning was a bitter time, no matter what the season. Severus knew this from past experience. He had closed the bar, along with the bartender. The former Potions Master of Hogwarts had no place to be, so he was already at his destination.

He waved goodbye to the barkeep, who had inexplicably taken a liking to him after the incident with the young man. Severus had never had that happen before, and so he had stayed at the bar, trading stories with the grizzled Cheyenne, and eating fry-bread, covered with mildly spiced meat, beans and cheddar cheese, made by the man's Lakota wife earlier that day. He hadn't finished his beer. 

The barkeeper, whose name Severus couldn't recall, some kind of totem animal probably, waved farewell to him from the cab of his pick-up truck, and spun his tires in the gravel parking lot before they gained traction, and he was able to pull out. Severus waited until the tail-lights of the man's truck were distant red dots on the flat landscape before he pulled his shrunken broom from his pocket and restored it to normal size. 

A brutally cold, December wind snapped at his robe's collar, wreaking havoc on the warming spell he had surreptitiously cast before leaving the bar. An involuntary shiver shook his slim frame as he mounted. He was ready to kick off when a soft footfall caught his attention. 

“So, _wasicu_ , you're a wizard, ennit?” With a start, Severus recognised the voice of the young man with whom he had nearly fought. The boy was considerably more sober. 

Snape turned slowly, slipping his wand to his palm as he prepared for a battle. The young man stood erect, his posture meant to convey strength, but only served to show the youthful angles of his body. Severus suddenly felt very old. 

He said softly, “Young man, I have no argument with you.” 

The Lakota man smirked. “And I ain't here for one. My _kun 'si_ , she sent me back to get you. She told me to ask you to stay at our house for Christmas, 'cause I was rude to you.” 

Severus looked at the boy dubiously. His innate sense of self-preservation would not allow him to accept, no matter who sent the putative invitation. “No, thank you, I must be off.” 

“Nana said you'd say that. She told me to do this.” The boy raised his hand, a flash of light shot from his palm, and Severus was bound tightly in soft leather bonds. He toppled to the ground. The lad cast another silent spell and Snape's words of outrage were cut off. Black eyes peered at him as he stared up in the clear winter sky. “Sorry, Mister. The Old Woman wants to talk to you.” 

The last thing the formerly, most-feared Potions Master felt was the warmth of another spell, and then heavy blackness enveloping him.

&*&*&

Severus woke to feel a small hand upon his brow. He struggled to open his eyes as a girl's voice said excitedly, “Nana! He's awake.”

“No need to holler. I may be old, but I can hear you fine,” came an answering voice, creaking with age. “Give me a minute. I'll be there.” 

Severus felt his eyelid being pulled up by the imp with a girl's voice. “Hey, Mister, you still awake?” 

His eye focused on a young, female version of the man from the night before. Her cheekbones were broadly-angled under eloquent black eyes, and her mouth was mobile. She was not more than ten years old by the innocent look in her probing gaze. Severus opened his mouth, trying to speak over the pounding of his blood and the pain forming at the base of his skull. He moaned, “Bloody hell.” 

“Ooh! Hey, Nana, he's English,” the imp shouted. Turning to him she said with an air of self-importance, “I know you are because I watch PBS, and not just for school. Why don't you open your other eye? Did that damned Joseph Pony hit you? Do you need some ice?” 

“No, he just abducted me.” Severus painfully forced the other eye open. “And your language is quite unbecoming for a young lady. I should wash your mouth out with soap.” 

“ _You_ said 'hell.'” the girl countered, folding her arms across her sparse chest. 

“ _I_ am not a young lady..” Severus struggled to sit up. “Now, please fetch my captor so that I might find out why you have been inflicted upon me.” 

The girl laughed and flounced from the room, her black hair swinging saucily against her hips as she left. 

Severus moved his legs over the side of the bed, gingerly so as not to make his headache worse, and frowned at the sad state of his clothing. He sat for a moment and tried to remember how the boy had cast such powerful spells. He had never seen a binding spell cast without a wand. And the last spell, the one that had rendered him unconscious, was completely unfamiliar to him. He supposed the Native wizards worked with a different system of magic, and therefore different spells and methods of administration. His long-underused sense of curiosity was roused. 

A wizened figure entered the room, leaning heavily on a cane. If Severus couldn't see the outline of shrivelled dugs in her mannish shirt, he could not have assigned a sex to the person. The imp capered about her, shooting looks of superiority at him. The old woman said something sharply to the girl that Severus couldn't understand, and the imp retreated to the room from whence the pair had just come. 

The old woman settled onto the bed beside him. Severus fought the urge to shift uncomfortably under the scrutiny of her rheumy eyes. She pulled a pipe out of her shirt pocket, making a great show of cleaning it. She worked a pouch of tobacco from her other pocket and meticulously filled the pipe. After a few moments of regard, she lit it, puffing to first get it lit, and then to draw the noxious smoke into her mouth. All the while she observed Severus peripherally. Severus held himself still, a practice he had learned early under the rough tutelage of his father, and later more brutally under the beast he had willingly served. He Occluded his mind, unsure just what the old woman's powers were and how they were employed. 

She coughed once, and Severus almost looked at her in anticipation, but held himself rigid. Whatever her game, he could wait her out. She continued puffing, occasionally blowing rings of smoke from her mouth. Finally the old woman said, “I bet you have a nice headache. Fool boy wasn't supposed to use the last spell unless the other two didn't work on you.” 

“How comforting, Madam, that you are concerned for my welfare.” Severus couldn't keep the acid from his tone. 

The old woman's wheeze of laughter spilled through the room, spreading like the smoke from her pipe. She resumed her silent contemplation of him, still puffing. After loading another bit of tobacco into it, she stood from the bed. “It's Christmas today. I got a turkey in the oven, and potatoes to peel yet. Come help. Joseph Pony should be back soon with the willow bark for your potion, and I've got the other ingredients laid out on the cabinet. You can brew it on the stove while the potatoes cook.” 

Severus slowly got to his feet, reluctant to follow, but curious all the same.

&*&*&

Severus did not leave Rosebud for a year. And when he did, he brought with him a misanthropic, eighteen-year-old Joseph Red Horse, called Joseph Pony to distinguish him from his deceased father, and his impish eleven-year-old cousin, Stella Cadeaux.

They left the day after the Old Woman's funeral, in an ancient Jet Stream caravan, resurrected from its junkyard grave along with a rusty, green,1969 Chevy pick-up truck. Both had been purchased for less than three hundred dollars. 

The three had spent weeks repairing the vehicle and the interior of the caravan. Weeks that Severus had spent getting to better know his new charges and relearning the lot of the poor. In the evenings he fashioned makeshift wands for the children, who had been using their traditional eagle claws and feather to effect their magic. He had also cared for the dying woman as carefully as he had Albus the year he had murdered him. 

During the darkest hours when her pain was the greatest, the Old Woman called him her son. He wasn't sure if the words were said in the delirium of her illness or with true feeling, but he accepted the sentiment in silent gratitude as he sadly smoothed her brow and administered the potions he had made just for this event. For a time, sitting in the quiet room, he could forget his sins, and he could let himself love her as if she were his mother. 

He had wept bitterly when she had died three nights previously. The emission of his tears shocked him. He hadn't known he had any left after Albus and Lily. 

He assumed his usual cool facade when he told the boy of the Old Woman's death. But the girl... the girl had him wrapped around her finger, and so he had held her, letting her sob her way through his white shirt and muss his robes with her clenched hands. 

He could not push her away; she had lost so much already. 

He had promised the Old Woman he would care for the children after her inevitable decline. Severus Snape never shirked his duties once saddled with them. 

As they left the reservation behind and ventured out into the larger world, he realised he did so with more hope than he had possessed in years.


	2. Chapter 2

Forgiveness

Chapter 1

Most nights Severus woke screaming soundlessly, he could feel the tendons of his jaws popping with the exertion of the cries he would utter. As he shook the nightmare visions, he would watch the two children. The boy, Joseph Pony, would stir restlessly in his sleep, almost as if he were in sympathetic agreement with Severus; the only time in the day the arrogant, challenging boy would be. The girl, Stella, would wake, and begin preparing tea for him on the propane stove of the caravan. She never asked why Severus dreamed. He suspected she knew. The Old Woman had been a respected seer, and the girl, even in her flighty pre-pubescence, seemed to follow the Old Woman's path. 

Sometimes, Stella would stay up with him, watching him in stoic silence as he carefully put shaking hands around the steaming mug, mindful not to slosh the hot liquid on himself. His thin, cruel lips would curve down unapologetically, and he would ignore the girl. Other times, she would go back to her small bed. He knew she still watched him, but her act of obedience did not draw his displeasure. 

Lately, he had dreamt of endless bouts of Crucio, or other more brutal favourites of the Dark Lord, inflicted on him by various people, mainly those with whom he was familiar. His body ached from the memories. Tonight's bout had been inflicted by the inmates of the caravan and the Old Woman. Albus and Lily had been present in the dream, cheering them on.

Stella waited for a moment, to ensure he would not spill the steaming drink on himself with his trembling hands, then retreated to her bed.

They had been travelling for three months. 

Since the death of the Old Woman, Severus had drifted a little less aimlessly. He had two extra mouths to feed now. Joseph Pony was his apprentice and could make the simpler potions that Severus offered for sale by owl-order. The girl would aid them in their endeavours in between the school assignments he would give her. He had thought his teaching days were over, but it seemed he was destined to mould young minds, no matter where he landed. 

At least the two he taught this time were not dunderheads. The girl was particularly quick, but Joseph Pony was fast earning Severus' respect with his inquisitive mind and quiet efficient ways. Not that he would tell either of the children that in such direct terms. 

Severus cursed his luck as he cast the _Tempus_ charm, ascertaining he had only slept two hours before he awoke. There would be no more rest for him tonight, such was the pattern of his sleep. He had really needed a full night’s slumber. Tomorrow he had an interview with a prestigious potions manufacturer that was located in Chicago. The girl, if he got the position, would be able to go to a proper wizarding academy, and the boy would be able to do what young men do at a certain age. 

Severus stirred from his reverie as he noted a change in the nearly nightly routine. The girl spoke, her voice unusually measured and solemn in her address, “Uncle 'Rus, Joseph Pony made a new batch of Dreamless Sleep today; would you like me to get some for you?”

“No, thank you, my dear.” The words of endearment were still foreign on his tongue. He rolled them around in his head, as if he were a wine aficionado tasting a strange, new vintage. “Now go to sleep. You have a great deal of work to do tomorrow.”

Silence settled again on the silverfish caravan as Severus sipped his tea, his nerves still jangling, but less alarmingly so.

“Uncle 'Rus, the dreams, they're getting worse instead of better, aren't they?” The girl's soft query startled Severus, but he did not outwardly acknowledge the fact.

The boy stirred from his slumber. “Shut up, will ya, squirt? Mr. Tuvok don't need you pryin' into his business, and I need my sleep.”

Severus' eyes narrowed at the boy's nickname for him. The two children had come up with it after viewing some Muggle television show. Tuvok was an emotionless alien with whom the children thought he bore a resemblance. The boy knew the appellation irritated him, and therefore used it with great frequency. 

Severus stood, poured the remnants of his tea down the small sink, and then stalked to his bed alcove and drew the curtains.

&*&*&

The interview went as well as could be expected, with Severus running on two hours sleep and a doubled dose of Pepper-Up potion. He surreptitiously rubbed his jaw, still feeling sticky and unshaven. The officious-looking prick behind the desk shuffled papers, peering occasionally over the frames of his expensive glasses. Severus' eyes swept the over-styled, puffed-up git. He had taken an instant disliking to the man.

The man shuffled through the papers once more. “So, Russell, you've been in this country how long?”

Severus answered evenly, attempting to mask his irritation at the man's familiarity, even if it was with an assumed name, “I have resided here since 1998.”

“You've travelled a lot.” The man bent his head to another stack of papers, not meeting the dark wizard's eyes. Severus knew the statement was actually a question.

“Indeed, I thought it best to familiarise myself with my new home before settling into an area.” Severus' repressive tone did not affect the man, who started tapping the desk top with his Muggle pencil.

“I see you have your immigration documents in order.” Severus merely smiled at the man's comment. Yes, for the name Russell Thomas Spane, the immigration documents were indeed in order. There were several other identities that had equal amounts of the proper documentation, if he needed them.

“Well, I think everything's in order,” the prick reiterated. Severus suspected the man may have some overriding mental compulsion for 'order.' He wisely refrained from voicing the observation. He needed this job. 

The man stood abruptly, extending his hand. “It was nice meeting you, Russell. I'll let my manager look at your qualifications, and you'll hear from us.”

Severus unfolded his thin frame from the chair, shaking the man's hand with some degree of suppressed distaste. One thing he missed about England was that his fellow countrymen did not have the need to touch each other at every greeting; a simple, elegant bow sufficed. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Bender. I shall await your reply.”

&*&*&

Severus went shopping for the potions ingredients they would need to complete the owl-orders. He used the last bit of their money for the purchase. He cursed himself for the thousandth time. If he had had any foresight that he would survive, during the final year of the war he would have secured his years of savings outside of the confines of Gringotts. Severus had lived frugally during his tenure as a teacher at Hogwarts, and had accrued a tidy sum. He had increased the sum moderately as he had backed various ventures, and they had paid off. He was no Malfoy, but he could have kept the three of them in comfort for some years with it. The girl, at least, could have received a proper education.

Fat lot of good it did him, when he couldn't touch the Galleons.

Yes, he knew he had been tried _in absentia_ and found not guilty, if the reports of the _Daily Prophet_ were to be believed. He knew how the Dark Lord had subverted that particular machine, and he wasn't sure he could trust the story, no matter who was the new Minister for Magic. _The Quibbler_ was probably more reliable. For heaven's sake, the _Daily_ rag had reported that Potter, of all people, had testified on his behalf. Did the Ministry think him that gullible? 

It was insulting, really.

He laid down the paper money that passed for currency in this country. The Magical community used Muggle money, as the Federal government was well-aware of the wizarding world, having been founded by a mixed bag of wizards and Muggles alike; Thomas Jefferson and Benjamin Franklin being the most notable wizards of the group. Of course, the International Statute of Secrecy still applied, it was just interpreted in a different manner in this country. 

The bored witch behind the counter bagged his purchases. She popped her gum obnoxiously and nodded her head to the ambient music playing in the store as she did so. Severus swept out of the store, never giving the girl a backwards glance. He was hopeful that, once he was employed, Joseph Pony would be able to carry on the owl-order business, and thus be able to make these forays himself. The boy could earn some money while still completing his apprenticeship.

Severus Disapparated from the wizarding quarter of Chicago to the small clearing in which he had chosen to park their caravan. Stella was outside in the brisk, early-spring air, frowning slightly over her book as she shivered. Severus noted her squint as she read. He would need to take her to a Healer to have her vision tested.

“You don't want to go in there,” she warned, without looking up from her book. He cast a quick warming charm on her, without acknowledging her comment, and strode purposefully toward caravan.

As Severus approached, the unmistakable stench of ruined potions ingredients wafted toward him. He covered his nose with his hand, coughing. He did not know how Joseph Pony could stand to be inside without the windows open. The wizard flicked his wand, and with a silent spell, caused all the apertures in the silver caravan to open at once. He could hear the boy's ragged cough over the din of the Muggle rock music that he blared when he worked alone. 

Severus could have wept when he saw the disaster inside their abode/Potion's lab. The boy had melted two of their best cauldrons. Cauldrons they could ill-afford to replace, even if he got the new job. Potions ingredients, gathered over many years, had been contaminated, their bottles broken by whatever had exploded. Viscous gobs of what looked suspiciously like a poorly-executed Draught of Peace, decorated the floor, ceilings and counters. Bed linens had been doused in water and then employed to contain a fire. Severus' thin control slipped, and he cursed roundly as he looked for the boy, righting the disaster as he went. 

The boy coughed again and the Potions Master was able to spy the tip of one of the boy's ragged trainers peeking out of the closet-sized bathroom. As he drew closer, Severus could see that Joseph Pony was sprawled across the toilet, his neck hanging limply over its edge. He ached to beat the boy within an inch of his life, but instead touched him on the shoulder lightly. He kept his voice flat, but heard the cold anger slip into his inflection anyway. “What caused this?”

He saw Joseph Pony flinch, and then the boy looked up at him, his eyes full of remorse. “You know how I was talking about ramping up our production?”

Severus nodded, remembering the conversation and how he had forbidden the experimental the methods the boy had proposed. 

Joseph Pony continued, “I thought if I used a propane fire, instead of magical fire, you know like I said? I thought it would make things run faster, so I put the cauldrons over the burners.”

The older wizard could feel the flush of anger on his cheeks as a vein throbbed painfully in his temple. He would not give in to his anger, but it was a near thing as he looked at the repentant boy. He turned his back on Joseph Pony, and began casting spells to scourge the caravan. He felt his jerky movements and knew the boy had interpreted his silence. Joseph Pony stood up, and began righting things, using his eagle talon to cast his spells, rather than the wand Severus had purchased for him when they first arrived in Chicago. 

Severus sensed Stella at the door. Before she could add to his irritation, she said, “Uncle 'Rus? There's an owl here for you.”

She fled before he could thank her. When they had first started on their journey, Severus had lost his temper over a minor infraction. He had thrown one of the tantrums that he usually only reserved for Potter, and even then on very rare occasions. After his anger had passed, it had taken him weeks to get the children to trust him again. Had he been in his old life, the change from youthful boisterousness to silent fear would have been satisfactory. But, as he had to share such close quarters with the children, he had ended up feeling like a first-class bastard. He had vowed to control his temper as best he could around them. He hated seeing the shadow of fear every time he was displeased. He remembered what that fear was like to live under from his own childhood.

Stella stood by the owl, her hands in her jeans pockets. She was talking to it softly, her eyes lit with longing. The girl was fascinated with animals. She attempted to bring every stray dog or kitten into the caravan every time she happened across one. Severus, while hating to disappoint the girl, had had to tell her to release the animals. They simply could not afford a pet. Maybe when they were more settled, he promised himself, she could have an owl, Kneazle or domesticated Jarvey of her own. 

Severus passed an Owl Treat to Stella so that she might feed the bird as he reached to retrieve the message from its leg. He scanned the first paragraph and crumpled it between his hands. He had failed.

&*&*&

_He watched the Old Woman as she prepared the fry-bread for the evening dinner, her hands batting the ball of dough between them almost playfully as she flattened it to cook. She kept an eye on the grease, making sure it was not too hot while she spoke to Severus._

“I don't care what you think you were, Boy.” She slapped the dough one more time and flopped it in the grease. The bread gave a satisfying pop and then settled in to cook. “You're the teacher that was chosen for them. I dreamed it.”

“Madam, I am wholly unprepared to assume the responsibility of two children.” Severus objected. “I have no money, no job prospects, and have been quite content to live that way for the last three-and-a-half years. I will not assume any more duties out of a sense of obligation. I have fulfilled all of those for which I was personally responsible. I suggest you speak to your tribe about its duties.”

The Old Woman cackled, “Hoo-whee! Boy, you know, I like listenin' to you speak. Don't much like what I'm hearin', but when you say it, it's nice, ennit?”

Severus fell to fuming silence. The woman was as mad and obstinate as Albus. The only difference between the two was their choice in treats. Instead of sweets, she offered fry-bread.

She pulled the bread out of the iron frying pan, still steaming and bubbling, and placed it before him, along with a plastic honey-bear. “Don't matter much, Boy. You'll be takin' 'em after I'm gone. You got a destiny to fulfill. Just make sure you do it.”

&*&*&

“Uncle 'Rus?” Stella placed her small hand on his shoulder, the nails painted in blue lacquer that was chipping off at the edges. He had promised her that they would get her a proper manicure when he cashed his first paycheck. “I think you need to really read this.”

The girl thrust the parchment into his hands. Severus looked at the document numbly. He could not force himself to face his failure once more. He let it slip between his fingers, and Stella retrieved it. “Uncle 'Rus, it says that you got the job. We just have to relocate.”

Severus grabbed the paper from her hand and re-read the letter, not even skipping the portion that caused him such despair.

 

_Dear Mr. Spane,_

_At this time, we regret to inform you that our offices in Chicago, have no positions available. We must respectfully decline your services._

_You expressed your willingness to relocate, so we have contacted our research facility, located in Heavener, Oklahoma. That office does have need of a Potions Master who is well-versed in research. We will offer a bonus of $1000.00 to offset any inconvenience you may experience at your relocation._

_Please contact this office to finalize your employment records. You will be expected to report at the research facility for your first day of duty, a week from this date._

_Thank you for your time. Please feel free to re-apply for the position you originally sought at this office in one year._

_Sincerely,_

_Martha Bramblesworth  
Chief of Human Resources_

Severus bestowed a rare smile as Stella danced happily about him. Joseph Pony, now thoroughly scrubbed, stood in the door of the caravan, shirtless and with his jeans riding his bony hips. He gave Severus a thumbs-up before he retreated from the cold.

The Potions Master heaved a gusty sigh of relief. There was time for celebration later, right now he had to tea to prepare and a caravan to set to rights.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Please take the time to let me know what you think.


	3. Chapter 3

Severus welcomed the change from the Pleistocene scree east of the Mississippi River to the rolling flatlands to the south and west. They followed the Muggle highways, innovations much-needed in this land of vast, blank skies and rolling grasslands. They drove from Chicago to Kansas City, Missouri during rush hour, and trekked well south into Kansas before stopping to rest for the day.

Severus sank wearily to the dinette-style booth that served as seating around the table in the caravan. Joseph Pony, still trying to make up for the destruction he had wrought before they left Chicago, offered to make the evening meal as he had for the last three days. The gesture would have been appreciated, had the boy known how to make food that was actually edible. Severus would have to teach him once they were settled. 

The boy was looking through the pantry, a smallish closet, floor to very low ceiling, that could hold two cans high and two wide on each of its decrepit shelves. The space limited them on their choices, and Severus was definitely not in the mood for one of the boy's surprise casseroles, which usually came as more surprise than casserole. 

Stella flopped next to Severus, rubbing her eyes sleepily. He noted that her colour was a little high, but thought it may have been from the unusual heat of the day. She leaned against him, settling her head on his shoulder. It had been only weeks ago that Severus would have reprimanded the girl for such familiarity, but he had become used to both the children seeking his attention in such a manner. He sat stiffly next to her, unable to formulate a more suitable reaction to the girl's open affection. She yawned, showing her white teeth all the way back. “Uncle 'Rus, please tell me you're going to cook.”

“Shut up, squirt,” Joseph Pony rounded on her. “Can't you see Mr. Tuvok's dead tired?”

The imp stuck her tongue out at the boy's back as he began rustling around in the cupboard again. “Better than dying from eating your food. Blech!” 

_Blech, indeed._ Severus gave a small smile at the girl's comment. He remembered seeing a diner a few miles back in the town through which they had passed to get to the KOA campground they were in now. Severus' tone was measured, but tinged with humour as he gave into the fleeting desire to have one night of pleasure before he had to settle into his new position. “I believe we can afford to dine out tonight.”

Stella's reaction was immediate and joyous. She gamboled about as Severus went to unhook the caravan from the ball-hitch on the truck. Joseph Pony followed him outside, expertly stripping the tail-light wires from the hook-up and retrieving the jack from behind the seat of the cab of the truck. They had done this the Muggle way many times in the last months. The boy whispered tightly, “We're gonna need that money when we get there.”

Severus studiously ignored the comment as he piled the bricks that were stowed in the bed of the truck under the hitch, then positioned the jack on them. He began pumping the ancient hydraulic device to lift the hitch enough so that the truck might be driven out from underneath it. The older wizard threw the keys to the pick-up at the boy, who caught them expertly, and started the vehicle. When the jack was high enough, Severus waved, and the boy eased the truck out carefully. Stella had been watching in rapt attention, as she always did during the process. Once the truck was pulled well away, she made her way to the spot that was hers in the middle of the bench seat. 

Severus placed a sticking charm on her, and went to the passenger-side door. Joseph Pony beamed at the older wizard as he realised he would be allowed to drive. Severus found it strange that American wizards considered it a rite of passage to learn to drive, while obtaining an Apparition license was not a momentous occasion. He thought it may have something to do with the vastness of the land. Apparition was generally useful only short distances, and broom-travel impractical for the same reason. In the States, the automobile was king, even in the wizarding world. 

Joseph Pony switched on the radio, an ancient chrome and plastic device that accessed only AM frequencies, and began fiddling with dials. He settled on a static-ridden station that was playing Native American flute music. “Sounds like home, ennit?”

He flashed a quick smile to his cousin, who grimaced. “Too much like it. I wish we were going to be there for the Pow Wow in the summer.”

Joseph Pony nodded, darting a closed glance at Severus. “Maybe Mr. Tuvok will take a vacation.”

Severus made no comment. He had not envisioned his life past the next job in so long, that it was impossible for him to give the two reassurances about the next month, much less the coming summer. He closed his eyes and drifted.

&*&*&

 _'You think you're alone, but every life you've ever touched is with you.”_

_The Old Woman puffed her pipe into the damp night air. Her white hair was unbound, a thin nimbus around her head and shoulders. Severus listened to the crickets chirrup, claiming their mates and their territory. He moved slightly, and the ancient webbed lawn-chair squeaked._

_“You take Joseph Pony's daddy. He took in that girl like she was his own after her parents died in that fire. If he hadn't done that, then Joseph Pony woulda gone wild like him. My son was never a good man, that's why he went in prison, but he done a good thing for that girl and it got passed on to Joseph Pony. Not that Stella don't pester him some. But that's the way things work. Spider and Coyote is always looking for opportunities to tease us and make us better for it.”_

_Severus stretched his long legs out; the Old Woman's homily was beyond him at the moment. He had spent the day helping the boy round up stray cattle for the Reservation. Cattle, Severus found, were stupid, foul beasts with temperaments closely akin to a herd of rabid Jarveys. He was dreadfully tired, but unable to sleep yet._

_“Even though you don't think it, you're a good man, Severus. You got a lot of Coyote in you. Coyote's a trickster, but he's good.”_

_Night loomed large in the sky, chasing the sun away. Severus pulled a blade of buffalo grass from the sod, twirling it between his fingers before he transfigured it into a moth. He let it go to its pointless death in the flames from the lantern that lit the night. The Old Woman chuckled around the pipe stem in her mouth._

_She peered at the horizon, watching the sun fall off the world, before she continued. “You ever gonna tell me about that old man you killed? Or them women you saved? They're linked to you just like Joseph Pony's daddy linked him with his cousin, and now you. Good and bad, all balled up like string that you may have a use for.”_

_Severus stood slowly, letting his hair fall to cover his eyes. “Goodnight, Madam.”_

&*&*&

Yellow incandescence shone through the thin membrane of Severus' eyelids. He felt the light hit his face and drift off to black as they drove down the lamp lined street, over and over. Joseph Pony was whistling softly through his teeth, a shrill noise that usually set Severus' teeth on edge, but was comforting in his half-dozed state. He felt Stella shift, her body hot and sticky from the layers of clothing he had made her wear that day. Severus sat up as he felt the truck slow and begin its ponderous turn into the parking lot of the diner. Joseph Pony smirked, “Thought we was gonna hafta eat alone.”

The older man shifted to cover his wand work as he released Stella from the sticking charm. 

They entered the establishment, a building of unknown vintage that had once been a house. He was expecting the interior to look something akin to the horror that was Madam Puddifoot's, and was relieved to see that it did not. He was, however, somewhat surprised to be reminded of the interior of a well-kept barn. Sickles, saw-blades and half the hood of an ancient John Deere tractor decorated the walls. The floors were polished industrial tiles and the cash register was of an ancient vintage with its many buttons, levers, and ornate bronze case. 

Joseph Pony made his way to a booth, upholstered in red gingham plastic. He slid into it and assumed his pose of arrogant insouciance. Stella stayed beside Severus, clinging shyly to his side as they walked the gauntlet of occupied tables to join her cousin. 

Joseph Pony looked up at the front of the room to a signboard boasting the Blue Plate Special. “Looks like you're in luck, squirt; it's liver and onions tonight.”

“I _hate_ liver,” Stella murmured before sitting. “But liver's still better than your cooking.”

Severus situated himself beside the boy, who sat facing the door. “Man, I hate when you sit by me. It makes us look gay.”

Severus quirked his brow, while retrieving a worn, plastic-encased menu from behind the condiments. “I suppose you think others’ assumptions on my sexual orientation should bother me?”

The boy rolled his eyes and flipped a menu to his cousin before grabbing one for himself. They perused the menu in silence as a mousy waitress approached. She waited until Severus looked up, before asking, her voice soft, “What do you want to drink?”

Joseph Pony and Stella answered in unison, “Dr. Pepper.”

“The boy may have a soft drink, but the girl will have milk,” Severus countermanded over Stella's strenuous objections. “I should like a pot of tea, if you have it?”

The waitress scribbled his instructions on her pad, then frowned. “I'm sorry, Mister, we don't have hot tea, would iced tea do?”

Severus inclined his head politely. “Certainly.”

The waitress, a girl barely out of the schoolroom, by her looks, coloured. She ran a hand over her iron-flat, brown hair. Severus noted the grace of the movement. A tendril of longing curled around his gut; he broke the spell by looking away. The girl stared at him a moment more before retreating to what served as, Severus assumed, the kitchen. 

Joseph Pony gave a low teasing laugh. “Hey, Tuvok, she wants you to tap that.”

“Mr. Red Horse, not another word,” Severus growled, giving the boy a warning look. Joseph Pony looked back at his menu, flushing from the reprimand.

Severus placed their order when the blushing waitress returned with their drinks. She paused before she departed, casting an almost coquettish look over her shoulder, her eyes alight with a welcoming gleam. Severus scowled. Stella watched the interchange with rapt attention and Joseph Pony snickered.

The waitress returned several times to refresh Joseph Pony's drink. The boy seemed suspiciously thirsty. Every time she did, he moved his glass further from her reach. Severus was treated to a view of meagre cleavage and cheap cotton bra each time she stretched for the glass. 

“I'm sorry.” she said, the last time, blushing and biting her lip. Severus endured the girl's attentions, mildly flattered despite the constant stream of invective that flowed through his mind about his unworthiness. 

The last time she came to the table, the girl tried to engage him conversation. “So are y'all from around here?”

Severus was stony in his silence. Joseph Pony answered, “No, we're just passin' through. Uncle 'Rus here just got a job.”

“Oh, really? What do you do?” she asked, resting her foot against her shin on top of the other foot. Severus swept his gaze from her thin, bare leg to her hip, her pink uniform's hem sagging where the stitching had come undone. Unaccountable desire flickered through him. 

“He's a chemist,” Stella answered, smiling.

Joseph Pony volunteered, “We're staying out at the KOA camp tonight.”

“So, are you English?” The girl wet her lips, and Severus felt his long-abandoned lust blaze to life. He dared not look at the plain girl lest he give in to the temptation to indulge himself in her obvious invitation.

“Yes,” he replied tersely, his jaws knotting over the word. 

“Well, we're closing in a few minutes.” The girl paused a moment more, then said a little sadly, “It was nice meeting you all.”

Severus fished a ten-dollar bill out of his wallet, and made his way to the cash register, where the girl waited for him. He handed her the tip, then paid for the meal. He swept out of the diner, wishing for the thousandth time that he could hide under the cover of his robes and his dramatic manner. Joseph Pony followed, laughingly saying, “Man, I don't know what's wrong with you. If I had someone throw their self at me like that, I'd ‘a gone with it.”

Severus pulled the boy's arm, his anger blazing out of his thin control. “Do not presume that you know me, just because we are forced to endure each other's company, Mr. Red Horse. I do not engage the affections of young girls. I do not inflict my person upon anyone if I can help it.”

“Lighten up.” The boy's eyes widened as he struggled to release himself from the painful grasp in which the older wizard held him. “I didn't mean anything by it. I was just teasing you.”

Severus, cognizant of Stella's presence, released his hold. “Take your cousin to the caravan. I will return shortly.”

The boy spun on his heel, anger lining his face. “Come on, Stella. The old bastard don't want us around.”

Severus sank to a concrete barrier as the boy peeled out of the parking lot, squealing the tires as he left. He knew he had bollixed up the entire evening, and was aware that the boy had teased him out of some sense of affection. The betrayal he felt was his own, stemming from his desire for a woman that was not Lily.

&*&*&

 _He had been twenty when he had lost his virginity. He had spent an idyllic summer day in study in Lucius' library; the wind wafting through the open windows promised a cool evening. Lucius entered the room, scowling. “Severus, there's a matter we need to discuss.”_

_Severus looked at the older man, now married to Narcissa, and as content as any man might be, given the dangerous game that held them in thrall. Severus looked up from his book, wary. Service to the Dark Lord was becoming increasingly difficult and fraught with onerous duties. Both men chaffed under its yoke. Lucius had been called away the evening before and had returned in brooding solemnity, his normally impeccable robes covered in gore. Severus knew better than to ask what task had made his thus. He really did not want to know whom the man had been asked to torture or kill, maybe both. “Yes?”_

_“It has come to Our Lord's attention that you have not participated in certain acts during our interrogation of prisoners.” Lucius eased himself onto the divan adjacent to the desk which Severus occupied. “He wonders about your ability to follow him if you do not partake of the rewards he offers.”_

_For the first time since Severus had met his friend, Lucius seemed ill-at-ease. Severus placed his marker carefully in the book he read before closing it. “You know I won't do that.”_

_Lucius hissed, “Severus, I have a woman, a Mudblood, here now. The Dark Lord wants her broken before he sends her back to her family. You know I cannot do it. If Rodolphus were about, I would ask him, but he's away.”_

_“No,” Severus said as Lily's lithe form danced in his memory. He would not defile the act in that manner. “You knew the consequences of the Fidelity Charm. You should have found a way around it.”_

_Lucius winced. “You know that was her father's stipulation given the scandal of Bella's and Rodolphus' acts.”_

_“There were other women available,” Severus replied evenly. “Why didn't you choose one without that stipulation? You knew it would displease The Dark Lord.”_

_“Dammit man, I've got a child on the way. If I fail...” Lucius' eyes blazed coldly for a moment before he sagged against the back of the divan. “I've administered a Calming Draught to the girl. You can pretend she's that Mudblood of whom you were so fond.”_

_Severus stood, feeling as if he had been hit with a Jelly-Legs Jinx. “It seems you've thought of everything. Very well, but know that you will owe me a debt and I will collect someday.”_

_Lucius bowed his head. “She's in the Blue Room.”_

_“How appropriate.” Severus swept from the room, his robes billowing._

&*&*&

“Hey, Mister, you all right?” 

Severus peered through the curtain of his hair into the soft brown eyes of the waitress. She sat next to him on the concrete divider, her cardigan draped over her shoulders unbuttoned against the chill of the spring night. “I'm sorry if I made you mad earlier. I just thought... Well, not many men look at me the way you did.”

“I know that feeling well,” Severus chuckled darkly, turning his gaze to her. “You did not offend me.”

Severus watched a stray lock of hair flutter against the girl's cheek. He moved it aside, brushing her cheek. She looked at him through lowered lashes. Severus ran his fingertips over her lips, the roughness of the digits contrasting pleasingly with her soft plumpness. Her tongue darted out, experimentally tasting him. He kissed her, taking time to allow her to get used to the idea of his harsh features and his unpracticed touch.

&*&*&

 _The woman, more a girl really, huddled in a corner as far away from the bed as she could get physically. She was unclothed, presumably prepared for him by Lucius. Severus sat next to her, knowing there were ways to ready her body for his intrusion, but unsure how to implement them. He drew her into his arms, giving as much comfort as he dared. She lifted her stricken eyes to his. “Please don't.”_

_“I must.” She flinched at the harshness of his tone. “If I don't, we all die.”_

_He caressed her back, allowing himself a moment for a physiological response to take effect. She felt him grow hard and began crying softly. He kissed her temple. “I'm sorry._ Imperio!”

_When he had finished his duty to the Dark Lord, he exited the room and vomited in the marble hallway._

&*&*&

The girl took him to her house, a white clapboard structure on the edge of town. He stood in the entryway allowing her to undress him. Even in Muggle clothing, he preferred the unassailability of button-front shirts to the ease of pullovers. She breathed against his neck as she kissed the scars left by Nagini, a souvenir of the Dark Lord's last insult to Severus. He gently lifted her lank hair from her shoulders, kissing along her delicate jaw. She gasped as he nipped her neck, then lightly abraded the flesh with his tongue. 

She drew him to her sparsely-furnished chambers and he fell on her, hungrily exposing her thin frame to his eyes. Her hands roved over his years of scars, accumulated since his childhood, rings of a twisted tree. He paused. “You do not have to do this, you know.”

“You don't either.” She drew him to her, into her body. They twined around each other striving for completion.

After they had spent themselves, he made to leave. No woman wanted to wake to his face. She pulled him back. “Don't go yet.”

He settled next to her, letting himself fall to uneasy slumber.

&*&*&

 _Severus entered the chamber, slipping uncomfortably into his role. The Dark Lord sat on a dais, his gaunt form enrobed in expensive velvets and silk, the symbols of his bourgeois, grasping nature._

_The assembled Dark Brethren shifted to allow Severus access to the circle which they had formed. The dark wizard looked forward dispassionately, his eyes resting on the girl he had been forced to rape that afternoon. He cursed Lucius. The girl was to have been returned to her family, ill-used, but alive. Severus dared not seek his friend's eyes out in the assemblage, his anger was too near the surface._

_“Severus, step forward,” came the Dark Lord's high, cold voice. Severus was reminded of the petty tyranny of schoolyard bullies._

_He complied, kneeling yards away from the man. “How may I serve you, my Lord?”_

_“Your brother, Lucius, reported of your conquest this afternoon. I wish you to repeat the performance for all our enjoyment.” The monster smiled._

_Severus balked, he could not do that again, not now, if ever. “Please, my Lord, I find the act, on the whole, distasteful.”_

_“Certainly, I would not want to upset your sensibilities. Very well, if you will not participate in the rewards,” The Dark Lord gave a laconic wave of his wand. “I will let you have a taste of the punishment._ Crucio!”

_Severus felt his teeth grind and crack painfully as he bit down against the pain. The Dark Lord said, “Rodolphus, finish her off.”_

&*&*&

“It's okay, you're dreaming... shhh...” 

Severus felt cool arms envelop him. He buried his head in the girl's chest, taking sobbing breaths to ease the visions away.

“Mister, it's okay. Whatever it was that scared you, it's all over.”

Severus wished it were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Please take the time to let me know what you think.


	4. Chapter 3

Forgiveness Chapter 3

Severus awoke with a start, wondering where he was for a moment, before recalling the previous evening's events.  The digital clock on the bedside table read four o'clock.  The girl stirred from her slumber, yawning as she asked, “You leaving, Mister?”

“ I must.”  He sat up and began gathering his clothes.  It had been ages since he had shared the company of a female, willing or paid.  He pulled on his briefs, feeling the dull, sweet ache of the night's activities as he stooped. 

The girl shrugged into a small cotton dressing gown as she followed him, watching as he donned his clothes.  He paused as he buttoned his shirt wanting to speak of the void that the girl's kindness had filled, if only momentarily.  He said only, “Thank you.  The experience was lovely.”

She went to him, twining her arms around him.  He embraced her as she rested her head on his chest.  “You don't have to say that, Mister.  I'm not the best-looking girl, you know.”

He kissed the top of her head, letting the feel of her warm body against his calm him.  She turned her gaze to his and for a moment they communicated wordlessly about all the injustices of their worlds.  She was plain, lonely and needy.  He was cruel, ugly and old before his time.  He kissed her, letting the action burn away each of their bitter truths.  “My name is Severus.  Remember me.”

“ Severus,” she said, as if tasting the word. She broke contact with his body, suddenly shy and young once more.  “I will.  I had a lovely experience too.  I don't guess I'll see you again, but thanks for the night.  It meant a lot to me.”

He finished dressing and exited into the deep chill of early morning.   He stood on the patch of dirt and weeds that served as the lawn, waiting until the porch light and then the bedroom light winked out, before he Apparated to a copse of wind-stunted trees outside the campgrounds.

He walked briskly to the door of the caravan, pausing to catch his breath before he entered. 

Joseph Pony's voice was belligerant and laced with malice. “Where you been at?”

Severus ignored the boy.  There would be time enough for apologies tomorrow, until then he wanted to savour the glow of sex.  Stella stirred as Severus made his way past her small bed.  She launched herself at him, her voice quavering as she exhaled, “Uncle 'Rus, I thought you were so mad that you left us.”

Severus noted she still felt hot as his hand skimmed her forehead. He switched on the lamp. She was burning with fever, her eyes glassy, and her skin a deep red.  Joseph Pony grumbled as Severus barked more sharply than he intended, “How long has she been like this?”

“ What?” Joseph Pony sat up.  “Jesus, I don't know.  Stella, why didn't you say were feelin' bad?” 

The girl began crying softly, collapsing into Severus' arms.  “I thought you were gone forever.”

“ I will never leave you, or Joseph Pony, no matter how angry I get,” the dark wizard whispered so only she could hear.  Severus picked her up and cradled her in his arms as he placed her in his bed.  He told himself it was nothing more than what he would have done for one of his younger Slytherins.  Returning to the kitchenette, he rifled through the potions stores they had not yet sold.  “Mr. Red Horse, please wet some flannels and place them on Stella's head.”

He finally found the bottle for which he looked, and returned to the girl's side.  He lifted her shoulders so he could feed her the last dose of Fever-Reducing Potion they had.  She shuddered at the taste, but swallowed it all dutifully.  Severus ran his hand through his limp hair, feeling the need to shower.  He then sat on the edge of the bed as Joseph Pony returned with the flannels, his arrogantly-handsome face solemn.  Severus placed the flannels on the girl's forehead and at the back of her neck.  She clung to his hand as she drifted to sleep.  Severus said softly, “Thank you, Joseph Pony.”

The boy crouched in the floor, flat-footed, his knees drawn to his chest.  “Sorry 'bout the teasing, Uncle 'Rus.”

“ I over-reacted.”  The older man's eyes never left the girl's face, but he felt the unacknowledged tension leeching from his shoulders.  “I tend to be less open about such matters.”

“ You know, I kinda got that.”  Joseph Pony gave a lop-sided grin.  After a moment, he asked, “Will she be okay?”

“ I will do some diagnostic spells to ascertain her condition.  Please, feel free to return to bed.  I will let you know my findings.”  Severus flicked his wand from the holder on his wrist.

“ Nah,” said the boy.  “I'm awake now.”

As Severus began the spell, Joseph Pony watched, a shrewd expression crossing his features. He gave voice to his thoughts as Severus concluded.  “You learnt that in that war you fought in, didn't you.”

“ Yes,” Severus said tersely.  He was unwilling to speak to the boy of his involvement.  He did not want another young man looking at him as if he were a monster.   “Stella is suffering from a spring cold, nothing more.  When we reach Tulsa, we will need to locate an apothecary shop.  She just needs a dose of Pepper-Up Potion.”

Joseph Pony stood from Severus’s side, stretching his long arms behind his back.  “I think I will turn in.  I'll take the first shift driving if you want to catch some z's this morning.”

“ That would be acceptable,” Severus replied, nodding.

The boy smirked. “All right Mr. Tuvock.”

&*&*&

Just outside Tulsa, while Joseph Pony drove, Severus noted a change in their speed.   Stella was feeling better and becoming bored with just looking out at the scenery.   Severus set a History of Magic text in front of her telling her a written theme was expected by the end of the day's trip. He smirked at her protestations of the unfairness of life in general and Severus in particular.  With a lift of his brow, he stated, “You complained of boredom.”

The caravan hit a rough patch of road and then came to a halt.  The wizard looked out onto the street-side of the vehicle before exiting the conveyance.  Joseph Pony slouched insolently  at the side of the pick-up, his hair blowing into his face from the strong breeze from the south.  A man in a brown uniform was standing beside him, speaking softly into a device on his shoulder.  As Severus approached the two, he took note of the cloth insignia stitched to the man's shirt.  It read;  Oklahoma State Trooper .  With a sinking feeling of dread, Severus stopped.  He had been horrified at the notion that the Peace Officers of this country carried firearms, and were allowed to use them a their discretion.  He had spied on the Dark Lord, betrayed his friends and lived life on the knife-edge of death for twenty years, but the thought of a Muggle authorised to use a firearm made his knees feel watery. 

The man looked in Severus' direction, mirrored sunglasses flashing in the late morning sun.  He placed his hand on the butt of his gun, flicking the safety off as he did so.  He barked authoritatively, “Sit down on the shoulder, sir, and don't move.”

Severus complied, and prayed to whatever gods ruled this country that Stella stayed in the caravan.  The officer directed Joseph Pony to sit beside Severus.  Looking over the rims of his sunglasses, he asked, “This your son?”

“ Yes,” Severus said, trying not to dart a nervous glance at the boy.  They had worked on a cover when they left Rosebud.  Muggle laws were strange concerning Native Americans and guardianship.  The children would be removed from his custody if it were found that Severus was unrelated to them.  Joseph Pony and Stella both knew that they were to claim him as father if need arose.

“ Don't look much like you, except maybe the eyes,” the officer conveyed with a look that it was indeed good fortune the boy did not take after Severus.  Severus smirked to himself, in agreement.  “He says you're on your way to a new job.”

The older wizard again answered in the affirmative.  The rapid fire interrogation continued.  “Where are you heading?”

“ Pardon me?”  Severus asked, attempting to discover the point of the questioning.  “Heavener, Oklahoma.”

“ Heevner, huh?” the officer queried. Severus had been saying the name incorrectly and he made a mental note to correct the mistake.  The officer continued, “You're not from around here.”

Obviously.   Severus bit back the acid reply, instead settling on a more acceptable one.  “I am originally from Manchester.  I settled here some years ago.”

The officer relaxed his wary stance slightly.  “I spent some time in England, Lakenheath, when I was in the Air Force.  Pretty country.  Green.”

“ That it is.  May I ask what my son has done that caused you to stop us?” Severus ventured, feeling a little more at ease as the officer removed his hand from his the butt of the gun.

“ Speeding.  He was doing sixty-eight in a sixty-mile-an-hour zone.”  Severus scowled as the officer related the information.  “Didn't want to pull you out of wreck later on down the road.  A rig like this can jack-knife in a flash.”

“ Jack-knife.  I see,” Severus said, knowing full well the magical protections that had been invested in the vehicle.  Severus heard the pop of a window opening.  He could almost feel Stella's gaze on his back.

The officer noted the action too, becoming wary immediately.  Severus did feel for the man; he, himself, had lived under that same constant alertness, and knew the adrenaline-powered surge the man felt.  “You mind if I look in the trailer?”

Severus waved his hand laconically, a gesture he had learned from Lucius.  “Certainly, if I might accompany you.  My daughter is ill, and I do not want her unduly alarmed.”

“ Daughter, hunh?”  The officer's jerky head movement belied his alertness.  He spoke softly into the radio on his shoulder.  “I just called for backup.  A K-9  unit'll be here soon.”

“ Great,” Joseph Pony groaned softly to Severus.  “Just what we need, Stella around a dog.”

The trooper began shining a light under the caravan, stooping to look underneath.  Severus moved slightly to watch the man, only interested to see if his magical modifications to the structure were noticed.  After a few moments, Stella came to the door.  “Daddy, can I come out?” 

The trooper jerked his head up, glaring at the girl who was clad only in her flannel nightgown and a jumper.  She wore the huge, furry slippers the Old Woman had purchased her for her birthday in June, and her hair was bound in two fuzzy, half-undone braids.  Severus damned the girl to the lowest level of hell as the officer placed his hand on his gun once more.  “You say she's sick?”

Severus was saved an answer by the arrival of the canine unit.  The officer in the new car pulled up and let his dog bound out of the car on the end of a short lead.  Stella's soft intake of breath was the only noise that broke the tense silence.  Severus shot the girl a warning glance but said nothing. 

The two officers circled the undercarriage with the dog in tow, speaking softly to each other as they did.  Stella followed their progress through the windows as the dog circled the caravan.  The officer with the dog smiled at her, apparently noting the look of longing on her face.  He approached Severus, his expression friendly.  “Why don'tcha step inside with me, sir.  I'll just let Farley here do his job, and you can keep an eye on the girl.”

He indicated the dog, and allowed Severus to stand.  Severus hated dogs.  He had since he was a child when he had been attacked by rather large terrier that had taken residence on the street which he lived.  His left buttock still bore a small, white scar from the animal.  The Werewolf and the Mutt had done nothing to change his opinion of the genus.  He preceded the officer into the caravan, uneasy that he could not keep a wary eye on the beast as he walked.  Severus pulled Stella to the alcove she had vacated.  “I told you to stay abed.”

“ Yeah, sorry,” the girl said accompanied by a shrug.  Severus followed her intense gaze as she watched the dog's progress into their living area.  “I just wanted to see what was going on.”

“ I will think of an appropriate punishment for your disobedience,” Severus said setting his mouth in a stern line.  “We will discuss it when we stop for the evening.”

Stella ducked her head, her eyes still on the dog.  “Yessir.”

The officer had made a circuit of the area and came to a stop in front of the wizard and the girl.  He stooped, speaking to Stella, “You like dogs?”

Severus inclined his head, indicating she should answer.  “Yessir.  I love dogs, but  he won't let me have one yet.”

“ I tell you what, I think it's real smart of your daddy not to let you have one until you have a big yard, and a real home.  Dogs are a lot of work.”  The officer's twinkling, blue eyes sought Severus' then once more fell to the girl.  “Would you like to pet Farley?”

Stella's mouth fell open in an O of surprised awe as she darted a glance to obtain permission from Severus.  He nodded, cautiously concerned, and the officer brought the dog in front of the girl.  “Make a fist, and let him sniff your hand.”

Stella did so, and the dog's lolling tongue darted out swiping her hand with it.  Stella giggled delightedly and began scratching the beast on the cheek.  Severus could not control his unease.  “You are certain he will not bite her?”

“ Yeah, he's on duty, but he has to be given a command to attack.  Don't worry, I have two daughters of my own, he loves kids.” Severus still watched warily, unconvinced.  The canine officer offered, “If she wants a dog, you should get her a small, older mixed-breed.  That way she could learn to take care of a dog without all the problems that a puppy poses.”

Stella gaped at the man, her new hero, if Severus judged by the expression she wore.  He felt a sharp stab of something closely akin to jealousy, so he said stiffly, “I will consider it when we reach our destination.  Stella, quit touching the animal so the officer can be on his way.”

In the end, Joseph Pony received a warning ticket, along with a stern lecture from the original officer.  Severus smiled inwardly at the boy's barely-suppressed anger, but grimaced as Stella waved shyly from the caravan at the K-9 officer, who drove off with a friendly wave.  The older wizard chided himself for getting soft as he got behind the wheel of the truck and proceeded on to Tulsa.

They drove until early, after a rather longer stop in the town than they expected. 

The wizarding maps, that Severus had purchased in Chicago, were inaccurate, and it took several hours to find the district in the well laid-out town.  Once they had and Severus located an apothecary, he purchased the proper potion and administered it to the girl.  It was late afternoon and they had yet to eat lunch so Severus treated the two to a proper meal at a wizarding establishment beside the shop they had just exited. 

The two were unimpressed with the food, but stared at the colourfully dressed patrons of the establishment.  Severus noted that they, too drew stares in their Muggle togs, and he resolved to purchase proper clothing for the children for such outings in the future.  He would not have them treated as pariahs, as he had been when he was a child.  If not for Lily, he would have had no friends his first year at Hogwarts.

As usual, the thought of Lily cast a pall on his mood, and by the time he resumed driving, he had become surly and snappish.  The boy interpreted the change in the older wizard's mood as his fault, and so withdrew.  Stella, allowed in the cab of the pick-up once more, clung to her guardian, resting her head on his shoulder. 

Late in the day, Severus found a likely spot in which to spend the night, as he ascertained their destination was close.  As he released the sticking charm for the girl, she looked at him, her expression soft.  Severus' first impulse was to scowl, but he schooled his features to blandness.  The girl could not help that he was a foul-tempered bastard.  Once unstuck, she placed her hand on his arm, staying his flight.  “Uncle 'Rus, I kinda liked calling you Daddy today.  Can I do it some more, when no one else is around?”

Severus felt himself blinking in shock, aware of Joseph Pony's sharp-eyed glare.  The older man swallowed, all his inner demons shocked to silence as well. He finally answered, “That would be... acceptable.”

Joseph Pony smirked and mouthed, 'Tuvock' as he went to the caravan, whistling shrilly all the way.  Stella smiled shyly at Severus and said, “Daddy.  Yeah, I like that.”

**  
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Please take time to let me know what you think.


	5. Chapter 4

 

_Severus lay in a twilight world somewhere between death and life.  A child cried in the distance, but he could not be moved to care about it.  He watched from his vantage point above his body with mild disinterest as Potter approached, and Dying Severus let loose the memories that would help The-Boy-Who-Lived defeat the Snake-Who-Would-Not-Die.  The bluish miasma spilled out of every orifice on his erstwhile face.  Apart Severus knew the fool on the floor had given the boy too much, but could not bring it to Dying Severus' attention.  The boy left with the Know-It-All, and Apart Severus saw a stirring in the darkness of the hallway.  He braced himself for the horrors of Hel to take him.  Hel had been his constant companion his entire life.  He knew her well, with her ravening appetite for Life.  He would never enter Valhalla, he was no valiant warrior; his lot was to forever be the companion of the Bitch-goddess in her continuous quest for respite from the hunger that both devoured her and recreated her in a continuous cycle of death and rebirth._

_Hel, the evil bitch, never came.  Instead Aberforth Dumbledore entered, with his florid features and ravaged mind.  He took Dying Severus in his arms, his hands shaking, either from lack of drink or strong emotion, possibly both, Apart Severus observed coolly.  The man tipped a vial against Dying Severus' throat and the wound closed and then there was no more duality, just Severus, blood-soaked and flawed, wallowing in his own filth._

_“I had the Bloody Baron lookin' after you. Come on, boy.  We've got to get you out of here before anyone returns.”   The older man struggled under the weight of the dark wizard, until Severus realised he could stand on his own.  Aberforth shoved something at Severus. The younger wizard looked down at the object, seeing a goat's skull, bleached white and polished to a smooth sheen.  “It's a Portkey.  It'll take you as far from here as you want.”_

_“Albus sent you?”  Severus asked, hoping his general's final act had been to preserve the life of the man that had been ordered to murder him, the man whom Albus had said was like a son to him.  That act of compassion, alone, would have allowed Severus some measure of solace._

_Aberforth looked away, his eyes bright with tears.  “I never much liked the way he used you, or the boy either.”_

_Severus touched the proferred Portkey, a gift from the wrong Dumbledore.  Before taking it, he paused.  “There are others who chose the same path.  Did he forget them too?”_

_“Just leave, Snape.  Take care of yourself for once, and don't worry about anyone else.”  The older wizard pushed the Portkey into his hand and Severus said the word, envisioning days on a white beach and impossibly idyllic conditions._

_He landed in a pile of refuse in Queens, New York._

_Aberforth never was the wizard that Albus was._

&*&*&

 

Severus and the children were up at dawn, all three anticipating their new life with varying degrees of joy and dread.  For the day, Severus chose his only remaining Potions robes; the unrelieved black and the severe lines suited him.  He watched as the boy went to the toilet; Stella stood beside Severus.  “So, do you prefer Dad or Daddy?” she asked.

 

The girl had prattled on all last evening about the subject.  Severus just wanted her to give the topic a rest.  He scowled, then realised the expression could easily be misinterpreted, and then there would be tears.  His days as a spy for the Order had been less stressful. 

 

“My dear,” he began, wincing at the pompous sound of the words, but unable to formulate a more suitable soft phrase.  “I wish you to be as comfortable as possible in your choice of appellations for myself.  Please, feel free to write a report using each term, expressing both pro and con for each name.  When you are finished, let me read it, and then we will discuss your choice.”

 

Joseph Pony said as he walked into the room, “Squirt, you're drivin' him ape-shit. He gets more polite when you're doin' that; just save yourself some work and call him what you want.”

 

“Language, Mr. Red Horse,” Severus said severely, compressing his lips in a thin line of disapproval.

 

“English, Mr. Tuvock.” Joseph Pony smirked.  “Sorry, Dad.”

 

Severus swept from the room, his clothing clutched to his chest as if it were protection against the boy's jibes.  Severus observed Joseph Pony's closed expression as he shut the bathroom door.  Of all days for the boy to be impossible, he had to choose today.  Severus had not dwelt on his last hour in Scotland for some time.   The dream in the early hours of the morning had unsettled him.  He turned on the shower, hoping that there was some hot water left after the boy's ablutions of the morning.

 

The trickle of water was tepid at best.  Severus had tried charming the water to stay heated as it had been at Hogwarts.  He was only fair at charms, however, and dismal at common household spells, having lived most of his adult life as an inmate of Hogwarts.  The water had stayed warm but not hot.  He finally reverted to the Muggle methods of heating just to stop the complaints of the children when they showered. 

 

He stripped from his clothes, avoiding the long mirror on the back of the door from long-standing policy.  Once in the shower, he scrubbed himself with the bar of yellow soap from head to toe. 

 

He closed his eyes to the spray, letting it dribble into his mouth. 

 

&*&*&

 

_Severus stood in a cold basement room, stripped to his white briefs.  Thank the gods Lucius had forced him to go shopping before his induction into the Knights.  Of course, Lord Voldemort had changed the name of his followers recently, but no matter, he would soon belong to this brotherhood.  He would be a member of a family with the same high ideals as his own.  He was to be inducted into their ranks tonight.  He had not expected to have to strip to his smalls to do it, however._

_He kept his eyes straight ahead, but was well aware of the other occupants in the room, both semi-nude and garbed in black with the masks of their rank.  Severus had thought that joining the organisation might give him the means to make a mark in the world.  After hearing the charismatic man speak, he was more certain.  Lucius had provided the introduction and the rest was history._

_He had been content with his choice until he had been asked to stand in a cold room, locked in the struggle he always felt when he was exposed.  His back itched, his balls ached from the chill and he was growing tired of the exhausted theatrics of this poorly-conceived idea of a nineteenth-century secret society meeting.  Who was this man to expose Severus' flaws for all to see?_

_He sensed a movement to his left.  Mulciber was attempting to fidget through an itch, if Severus knew his compatriot at all.  Someone coughed to his left in the back row, one of the Death Eaters.  Severus stood still, his eyes fixed ahead._

_He stared forward while the others around him gave into the aching of feet or mystery skin irritations.  Severus was nothing if not iron-willed._

_Finally, Severus's attention was drawn to the centre of the room.  The Dark Lord now stood before the assembled group, his pale features luminous against the midnight backdrop. Several of the inductees gasped.  Severus remained impassive, unimpressed by a simple Disillusionment spell._

_The Dark Lord swept the assembled group with strangely glowing eyes, his disdain obvious.  He walked the line before him, a mixed bag of frightened boys and eager young men.  The Dark Lord paused before the first cringing specimen, letting his strange eyes bore into the man-boy.  He did this with each candidate, most trembling or bristling under the weight of the stare.  Only one, so far, had remained calm.  Those that balked at the Dark Lord's treatment were dragged away.  Those that cringed were welcomed, but sent to the outer areas, banished from the inner circle._

_The Dark Lord came to Severus, after inspecting a calm Mulciber, who had been allowed to stay.  Severus held himself still and calm, even though his guts twisted and he felt like spewing the remnants of the meagre meal he had forced himself to eat before the meeting.  The Dark Lord smiled and moved on.  Only three men remained after his inspection:  Mulciber, a Slavic man whom Snape recognised as Karkaroff, and himself._

_The Dark Lord Transfigured a throne from a pebble, then sat, arranging his heavy, violet robes artfully.  His voice was high and cold, a thing that bothered Severus, when he said,  “Bring the first forward.”_

_Two Death Eaters, presumably Mulciber's sponsors, stepped forward, drawing the young man towards the throne.  The Dark Lord ordered Mulciber stripped further, and Severus' friend since his school days allowed it to happen as if entranced.  Without  warning, Voldemort Cruciated Mulciber, who groaned and writhed with bone-breaking intensity under the curse.  As suddenly and violently as the curse was applied, he was let go.  Another spell was cast, and this time the writhing which Mulciber underwent was pleasure.  After he had spent himself, the Dark Lord smiled and cast a cleansing charm for him.  “Do you wish to fight for me?  Do you wish to experience the heights and the depths of pain and pleasure?  Will you serve me no matter what is asked of you?”_

_Mulciber kow-towed, his head touching the floor now mired with his sweat and spunk.  “I will, My Lord.”_

_The Dark Lord merely inclined his head.  “Arise, my servant, and bear my mark.”_

_Mulciber screamed in agony and pleasure as the Dark Lord's wand touched his skin, his eyes burning with new purpose.  He turned to the assembled group and was invested with his cloak and a silver mask in the shape of a skull._

_Severus was next._

 

&*&*&

 

The water was now cold and Severus felt his thin frame shake with unexpected tremors.  He switched off the shower and hastily cast drying and warming charms.  His trembling did not abate as he clothed himself.  He sat on the chemical toilet's closed lid, trying to quell the watery roiling in his gut.  He gulped air, as if it would provide the relief he needed from the ever-increasing visions of his past. 

 

Once he felt more under control, he practiced the rudimentary Occlusion exercises taught him by his mother.  His breathing came slowly and softly to his ears, his heart rate slowed and his mind no longer flitted from scene to horrifying scene.  He remained calm for moments and decided it was time to make his entrance into the common area.  His odd little family was waiting for him.

 

_Family._   Severus stopped short of the door, his hand on the knob, electrified and mortified by the joy that coursed through him as he tasted the bittersweetness of the word.  Family.

 

His friendship with Lily had been the closest he had ever come to that state before.  That had turned out so well for him, he thought, as a dark sadness curled around his heart.  A diminished sense of joy lingered, but he was able to exit the facilities without looking the fool that he felt.

 

The girl greeted him at the door, her expression troubled.  She hugged him tightly around the waist and for once, Severus touched her voluntarily, his hand flitting over her soft hair.  She said against his taut stomach, “I'm sorry I make you crazy.”

 

He allowed a rare smile to cross his face, leaving the traces of unease he had felt earlier.  “I think that is your job, Stella.”

 

“Daddy,” she laughed.  “It is not.”

 

Joseph Pony snorted from behind the book he read.  “Yep, that's always been your job, squirt.  You do it too well for it not to be.”

 

Severus extracted himself from the girl's embrace and  walked to the stove.  He retrieved the eggs and quart of milk from the small under-the-counter fridge and assembled the other ingredients for pancakes.  He had a few hours before he needed to report for his first day of work.  Stella sat quietly, but excited sparks burst out of her wand as she picked it up.  Pancakes were her favourite.  Severus smirked to himself, happy that he could please the girl so easily. 

 

Joseph Pony interrupted his reverie to inquire about a potion he was studying.  Severus answered, forgetting the distance between himself and the boy for a moment.  He glanced up at the end of his answer and saw the boy's eyes alight with unguarded pleasure for a moment before he shuttered his gaze and returned to his book. 

 

&*&*&

 

Severus drove the battered pick-up into the small town of Heavener, taking delight that it did resemble the Western movies in which he had invested many hours of his childhood.  The buildings were an older style of architecture, made of bricks and mortar with the facades of the American version of antiquity.  He left the windows open to the truck as he filled the fuel tank at a small modern convenience store on the outskirts of town.  As he entered the establishment to pay for his purchase, a grizzled, old man seated at a table nodded to him, before he returned to his perusal of the newspaper emblazoned with the title The Heavener Ledger.  Severus was forcefully reminded of The Quibbler from the typeface and old-fashioned ornateness of the paper's press-style. 

 

He approached the bored cashier, positioned behind the counter that could have doubled as a fortress of formica and wood.   He paid with the Muggle-script, still dully uneasy about the use of it.  The cashier, a young man in his late teens if Severus could tell by the amount of spots dotting the boy's face,  looked up expectantly.  “'S'that all, sir?”

 

“Yes, thank you,” Severus grunted, noting with amusement the lift of the boy's brow at the wizard's accent.

 

“You ain't from around here are you?”  The boy stepped closer to the counter.  “Where you headin'?”

 

“Where he's headin' ain't none o' yore business,” the old man intoned, not bothering to look up from the paper.

 

The spotted boy still stared at Severus, as if he could see through the glamour cast on the wizard's clothes.  “You just be careful around town, mister.  Some people don't take it nice when you go pokin' where it don't belong.  Right, Brick?” 

 

The old man, thus addressed, stood, tucking the paper under his arm.  “Pardon our old mother hen here, he's been dropped on his head too many times by his mama.”

 

The man left the store after shooting a warning glance at the boy.  Severus left as well.  The older man was waiting by Severus's pick-up.  The dark wizard paused, slipping his wand to a position of readiness.  The old man nodded affably as Severus approached.  “I was sent here to take you to the compound.  Doc Dance got your owl yesterday.  Name's Brick. McGowan.”

 

Severus inclined his head and opened the passenger side door.  As soon as he was seated behind the driver's wheel, he started the rough engine, hearing the strange pinging he had heard this morning when he first started it.  He would need to check that when he got back to the caravan at the lake. 

 

“Yore one o' them quiet types,” Brick said.  “Should get on fine with the crew we got.  Most of us ain't too sociable, if you know what I mean. Big brains and all.  S'why we were sent here by the company.  They don't want to lose good minds, but sure don't want to put up with a bad image.”

 

Brick wheezed out a laugh, his false teeth clacking loudly.  Severus nodded shortly, unable to formulate a reply.  Brick continued his monologue. “Ol' Doc, she spent some time in England durin' that war they had, and after.  She don't talk about it much, but it shook her up somethin' awful.  Spent some time in that prison they have there.  But I s'pose you should hear that from her.  Don't want her thinkin' I'm tellin' tales out of school.”

 

Severus remained silent, even as he felt his heart-rate increase.  He knew his picture had been plastered over the newspapers in both wizarding and Muggle Britain, both before and after his supposed death.  If his new employer recognised him, he would need to leave post-haste.  He wished he had had the foresight to cast a glamour on himself before embarking on the day.  With a sinking feeling, he turned into the long, dirt drive that Brick indicated led to the compound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Please take the time to let me know what you think.


	6. Chapter 5

Brick directed Severus to a large quonset hut that functioned as the main building for the compound. Several other outlying buildings of various styles dotted the landscape.  There was a neat row of simple cottages behind the quonset hut and a small, spell-fortified building that Severus supposed housed the potions-making portion of the compound.   Brick showed Severus into the main building, humming tunelessly under his breath. He paused in his song to say, “Doc's expecting you.  Just go to the door at the end of the hall and let yoreself in.”

 

Severus did as he was instructed, and an irritated female voice answered at his tentative knock,  “Oh for God's sake, what is it now?  Come in.”

 

Severus paused, telling himself he needed the job, a mantra by which he was thoroughly nauseated.  Once his temper was under control, he entered the room.  A  woman in her mid-thirties sat before an aluminium-framed window, her dark auburn hair pulled back in a severe queue by a black elastic hairband.  Her features, taken separately, would have rendered her plain, but on the whole, Severus judged her to be handsome, with her long nose and a chin that was just scant millimetres short of being jutting.  Her dark, hazel eyes raked Severus in an assessing gaze as she greeted him.  “You must be the new Potions Master they hired.  Spane, huh?”

 

She then turned back to the paperwork that had so absorbed her before he entered.  Severus counted to ten, then twenty before he spoke.  “If I am disturbing you, Madam, I could return at a later time.”

 

The woman had the audacity to hold up one finger at him as she continued perusing the papers before her.  After a full minute, Severus knew because he counted, she turned her dark eyes to him, her expression one of patent condescension.  “It's Doctor.  I am a qualified Healer _and_ a Physician.”

 

She cast her eyes significantly to the plaques framed on the wall, each proclaiming her achievements.  Severus sniffed, letting a sneer mar his face for the first time in days.  She stood, drawing herself to her full five feet of height and paced to the door.  “Follow me, Mr. Spane.”

 

“It is Master Spane.  I apprenticed under two of the best Master Brewers in Europe,” Severus said, as he lurched from the seat.  He flexed his hands attempting to keep them from strangling the woman whose manner was rude, even for this rough country.  She stopped, turning around to take his full measure, before she inclined her head as if in acquiescence.  Snape smirked in response.

 

She set quite a fair pace as she showed him the compound; another man his age who had not spent the past twenty years climbing the mountainous stairs at Hogwarts or dodging curses as a spy, would have been hard-pressed to match her pace as she flitted from one area to the other.  Severus gathered from the whirlwind tour that much of the research of the compound centred on curse reversal. 

 

The doctor stopped before the warded building he had noted earlier, and after waving her wand in a complex motion, the doors opened.  The odour of dog and sweet hay assailed Severus' acute sense of smell.  He covered his nose with his hand as they entered the building.  The doctor smiled maliciously at him as she introduced the focus of their current study: three smallish figures backlit by the windows high up on the wall.  “This is Kaya, Shiriki and Shiye.”

 

Three gracile wild-dogs peered at him with yellow eyes and feral intelligence.  He stepped back involuntarily. “You work with wolves?”

 

“No, these are coyotes.  These three have been infected with a curse similar to the one that creates werewolves.  The effect is reversed in them, of course, they change during the full moon to a type of human form.  It's an ailment that's indigenous to this region.  We tried testing Deer Women, but only the does are affected with that curse.  We needed a population of male and female subjects to test the improved treatments we've created.”  The woman stepped towards the animals, her hand extended.  The two dogs stepped forward and extended black noses to her.  The bitch paced at the back of the cage, panting and darting nervous looks at the humans.  “That's why you're here.  We're trying to reverse-engineer a cure for lycanthropy.  I hope your impressive resume was factual.  The last idiot that the home office sent blew himself up trying to modify Wolfsbane potion.  Wasted a lot of my time, too.”

 

Severus watched the coyote bitch as she made her circuit of the cage.  She came to a stop and stared directly at him.  He felt as if a cold breeze slid down his back as she gave three short yips.  The two dogs retreated, their tails sail straight.  The bitch continued to look at the Potions Master until the doctor broke her concentration. “So, can you brew Wolfsbane?”

 

“I can.”  Severus turned his eyes from the dogs, still wary. 

 

The woman smirked in disbelief.  “Well, that will be your first project.  Let me show you your quarters.”

 

“Quarters?”  Severus followed the doctor out of the outbuilding, his long strides overtaking her shorter ones effortlessly.  “I was not made aware that I was to stay on the premises.  I have an apprentice and a... d-daughter.”

 

“Great.”  She turned back to the main building, fuming as she went.  Severus heard several cursed phrases as he reluctantly followed.  Brick met her at the front of the main building.  The two had a whispered conversation while Severus contemplated finding other employment.  The woman stormed into the building, leaving Severus and Brick staring at each other.

 

“Don't worry 'bout the Doc, Spane,” he said, as he sauntered to the Potions Master.  “She's havin' a rough time with the corporation.  They sprung you on her without any notice.”

 

“Indeed, I cannot understand why they might do that,” Severus retorted dryly. 

 

Brick took off a battered baseball cap with a curvaceous, broom-riding witch logo emblazoned on it, and scratched his balding head.  “Well, we'll have to do some movin' around, but we can accommodate you and yore kids here.  It'll be nice havin' younguns around again.  Why don't you go fetch 'em and I'll have things ready for you when you get back.”

 

&*&*&

 

Stella was reading a text and Joseph Pony deeply embroiled in a battered science fiction novel when he returned.  The boy enquired, as he turned a page,  “How'd it go?”

 

Severus busied himself with lunch preparations, trying to calm the anger at the impossible woman who was to be his direct supervisor.  He noted the lack of clutter, a usual side-effect of Joseph Pony's potions efforts.  He snapped, “Mr. Red Horse, is it impossible for you to follow simple instructions?”

 

Joseph Pony grunted noncommittally.  “Don't know what you're talkin' about.”

 

“Did I, or did I not, instruct you to gather the potions ingredients that were needed for Fever-Rid potion?”  Severus spun on the boy, levelling a glare at him that would have sent a braver man skittering.  Joseph Pony looked up, a spark of anger in his own eyes, his jaw set stubbornly.  Severus pulled the boy by his sleeve to the window of the caravan.  “Did I not tell you to gather the ingredients from that stand right in front of your very eyes?”

 

Stella began to speak, but Severus cut her off brutally.  “I did not ask you to interject your trifling opinion, Miss Cadeaux.  On the slim chance that I might value your somewhat limited input, I will ask you for it.  Is that understood?”

 

The girl fled from the caravan, slamming the door behind her.  Joseph Pony glowered at him.  “You know, old man, you can talk to me any way you want, but not her.”

 

The young man pulled himself from Severus' grasp, and reached under the counter to the drying closet they had rigged.  “Here's your goddamn plants.  Those out by the trailer were contaminated with oil.  Stella and me went into the woods to get these.”

 

The boy slammed from the caravan, calling for his cousin.  Severus sank to a seat, his frayed temper causing him to shake uncontrollably.  He could not do this.  He just couldn't.

 

&*&*&

 

_The Old Woman looked at him as he sat peeling carrots the Muggle way that Christmas day, the first one he spent with them.  She had given up puffing on her pipe to peel boiled peanuts between her toothless gums.  “You haven't said your name, Wizard.”_

_“You did not ask if you might abduct me, Madam,” he answered, keeping his tone even as he would do with any lunatic._

_The Old Woman wheezed a laugh, spitting the shell of the legume into her hand.  “I didn't say you had to stay, ennit?”_

_Severus could not think of an answer so he huffed loudly to cover his lack of response.  The Old Woman stood and grasped his chin between her claw-like fingers.  She turned his face to profile then pulled his chin forward.  Severus did not know why he felt no objection to her touch.  Most people made his skin crawl when they looked at him.  Dumbledore always had, but the Old Woman's assessment was different.  She made a noise, a sound he had only heard during his time on the Reservation, issuing from native throats and containing different meanings.  From her, it sounded like approval.  “You ain't so bad to look at, once you quit your frowning.  I like your nose.  It's an Lakota nose, good and strong.  Your eyes is Lakota too; they don't lie about what to expect from you.”_

_She dropped her hand.  “So, Mr. Wizard from England, you wanna rest here for a little while?  I think that no_ wasicu _demon will want to find you here.  You're amongst family if you wanna be.”_

_Severus made no response but to pick up another carrot and peel it over the days old newspaper.  The Old Woman turned to the tap and washed her hands.  “So, you never told me your name.  You want I should give you one?  You may not like it.”_

_She slid a clipping out of her pocket, and passed it to the wizard.  Severus froze, seeing his black eyes and scowling visage moving in the picture that accompanied an article in the_ US Wizarding Today _.  He recognised it as one of the articles that had come out right after his trial.  The headline read luridly: “Spy Still Missing After Aquittal.”_

_Severus stood, knocking over the chair that he had occupied in his haste to flee.  The old woman waved her hand and the article disappeared.  “Like I said, you might not like the name I give you.  Sit down, boy.  I need help with dinner and you need some meat on them bones.”_

_She turned to the hob.  “You got them carrots peeled yet?”_

 

&*&*&

 

He finished making the lunch, his head pounding.  Joseph Pony had returned with Stella a few moments earlier, and they sat on the bench of the picnic table on their campsite.  Lake Wister, the man-made monstrosity at which they camped, glistened in the sun and the wind whipped Stella's hair viciously.  She ought not to be out in the cool March air after having been ill the day before, but Severus could not make himself move outside the caravan.  The familiar ache of shame stayed him, kept him prisoner.  He sat heavily at the table, cradling his aching head as tears pricked behind his eyelids and emotion clogged his throat. 

 

He had always dealt with strong emotion by a flurry of anger.  Potter had been targeted unfairly, as had Granger during his stress-filled days at the end of his tenure at Hogwarts.  Of course, Potter had had the dubious distinction of looking exactly like the man that had stolen his mate, but Granger had only reminded himself of Severus Snape as a young man, not really a punishable offence, unless you were him.  And of course, she had been friendly with the werewolf and the mutt.  How was she to know what crimes they had inflicted on a boy who was counted on to protect his mother from his drunken father?  A boy who had done nothing more than be homely and bookish, just as she was. 

 

He shivered once more as he looked at his two charges with the dawning realisation that he now was using the boy and Stella as his new punching bags, just as his father had used Severus and his mother.  Shame and self-recrimination was his constant companion.  He covered his face and wept. 

 

&*&*&

 

_“You ever been happy, boy?”_

_The Old Woman refused to call him by any other name since her revelation the day he had moved into the ramshackle house.  He had spent the last three months helping Joseph Pony roof the house and caulk windows that rattled and howled in the prairie wind.  He was standing atop a ten-foot ladder with nails in his mouth.  He had been affixing a gutter to the house all day.  He spat the nails into his palm, one by one as he needed them.  “I see you lookin' at that woman's picture every night before you go to bed.  She was special to you, I know.  But did she ever make you happy?”_

_“Madam, that question is impertinent, and I must ask you to mind your own bloody business,” Severus answered after spitting the remaining nails from his mouth.  “Go badger your grandchildren.”_

_“Supper's ready.  You need to wash up.”_

_Severus grunted and continued the work he was doing.  He only had a small amount to complete, and then he would go inside.  The Old Woman's original question echoed in his mind with each swing of the hammer.   Severus could honestly say that he had always been a miserable human being and would probably remain so until his death, some years in the future.  He did not have to have the talent possessed by the Old Woman to predict that sad state of affairs._

&*&*&

 

He felt Stella's cool hands on his neck.  “Daddy, why don’cha eat something and tell us what's wrong?”

 

She looped a cool arm around his shoulder.  He said more harshly than was strictly necessary, “You're chilled.  You should not have been outside for so long.”

 

“Yeah, and whose fault was that?”  Joseph Pony snarled.

 

Severus darted a glance at the boy, unsure if the evidence of his breakdown was on his face, only aware that they were expected back at the compound some time during the day.  “It was completely mine, Mr. Red Horse.”

 

Joseph Pony gave a soft snort and then sat across from his mentor.  He asked, his voice pitched softly for privacy, “’Rus, your flashbacks are getting worse, aren't they?”

 

The older wizard nodded mutely as Stella made herself busy with dishing plates of the canned ravioli and green beans.  Joseph Pony sighed, “Well, I put back some Calming Draft from the last batch.  Take some so you can go back to work.  When we get settled, would you go to see a Medicine Man?  We're in Choctaw country so I know they got a few around.  I know we already talked about it, but they won't treat you like a white Healer would, and they know how to keep their mouths shut.”

 

“I will... consider it.”  Severus stared dully at the plate that Stella sat before him.  She ran her hand through his hair, a soft ruffling touch that reminded him of his mother's when he was a child.  He resisted the urge to lean into it.  “Today, I was informed that we will have to stay on the compound.”

 

“Are there any kids?”  Stella asked, her eyes alight.

 

“Not any of which I am aware.  Sit down and tuck in, Stella, you barely ate breakfast.”  Severus shoved a fork through the mush on his plate, trying to convince himself it were edible.  “The compound is extremely dangerous.  It houses a pack of were-coyotes and has been frequented by were-deer.”

 

“Shit,” Joseph Pony whispered. “They had a Deer Woman there?”

 

Stella's fork which had been progressing rapidly to her mouth was arrested in mid-air, hanging loosely from her fingers.  “Do we hafta stay there?”

 

“I am afraid so; as you know, some potions have to be tended at all hours.”  Severus picked up a squishy-filled noodle and swallowed it whole.  “There will be no question of you going near the were-dogs, Stella.  If I catch you around their area, you will be punished.”

 

“No worries there,” Joseph Pony interjected.  “I catch you around them, squirt, your ass is grass.”

 

“Language, Mr. Red Horse,” Severus growled, his heart not in the admonishment.

 

The children chorused, “English, Mr. Tuvock.”

 

“Americans; everything is a joke with you,” Severus groused.  The two finished the meal in general hilarity.

 

&*&*&

 

Severus let Joseph Pony drive to the compound so that he might better be able to find the way.  When they arrived they were greeted by the entire staff.  Stella hung shyly by Severus, slipping a clammy hand in his.  He looked down on her face and fought the urge to check her for fever.  Instead he gave her a tight smile. 

 

The staff consisted of two middle-aged sisters, Beatrix and Regula, who specialised in Charms and Arithmancy, a young man, Johnson, who was a traditional Healer, and Brick, who tended to the animals and ran a very impressive botanical operation.  The Doctor introduced each to Severus who greeted them civilly.   He introduced the two children.  The older women smiled at Stella but said nothing.  Brick stepped forward.  “Doc, I think it's time he got his self and his family settled.”

 

“Oh, certainly.”  The woman had the decency to blush at her oversight.  “Could the children spare you a moment, Mr. Spane?”

 

Severus suppressed a groan, unwilling to clash with the woman again. “I do apologise, my daughter has been ill, and I need to see to her comfort.”

 

“Well, certainly.  I'll stop by your cottage later this evening if that's all right?”  The doctor answered, looking at her watch.  “Say, seven?  Will that give you time to get everything settled?”

 

Severus nodded as a sour feeling settled in his stomach.  Ah, the joys of office politics, how he had missed them these past few years.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Names from 20,000 names dot com. 

 

 **Kaya:**    from the Hopi, means elder sister

 **Shiriki:**   from the Pawnee, means coyote

 **Shiye** :  from the Navajo, means son

 

The Deer Woman is a real character in the Native American pantheon of the plains, southern  and western tribes.  She is said to be a beautiful woman who lures men to be unfaithful or promiscuous and then makes them waste away.  The Deer Woman is a cautionary tale to make sure that men of a tribe are chaste and their intent is pure.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Please take time to let me know what you think.


	7. Chapter 6

Brick walked them to a white clapboard cottage with a long, low porch complete with porch swing.  The older man released the wards, showing Stella, with a flourish that belied his age, how it was done. Joseph Pony entered and sank to a tattered couch wearily.  Brick said to Severus,  “The furniture was left over from the last Potions Master we had.  Wasn't much for being next to godliness, if you know what I mean.  Loved the ladies, no matter what their condition.”

 

“Joseph Pony, get up now,” Severus barked.  “We need to clean before we can relax.”

 

Stella pulled a face as she entered one of the bedrooms off the hallway.  “It smells like ass in here.”

 

Brick remained silent as the other two male voices were raised in outrage,  “Stella!”

 

“Well, it does,” the girl harumphed as she continued her exploration.  Joseph Pony caught Severus eye and a moment of like-minded horror passed between them.  Stella's voice came from down the hall, muffled by the walls, “This room's mine.  It has a built-in dresser and desk, and it's my favourite colours!  Look, Daddy.”

 

Severus nodded to the older wizard and excused himself.  “What is it, my dear?”

 

&*&*&

 

Severus had not been confident in his ability to cast the necessary cleansing charms, so he had sent Joseph Pony into town for bleach, scouring powder and gloves.  The boy was also instructed to get something nutritious for them to eat at a local restaurant they had passed on the way up to the compound.  The boy returned with pizza.  When Severus had objected, Joseph Pony had grumbled in indignation, “What?  I got the supreme, it's got onions, bell peppers and two kind of olives.  Those are vegetables.”

 

“We must not forget the tomato sauce, as well,” Severus snipped.  “And are you counting the spices, also?  Garlic is most certainly a plant.”

 

The boy gave him a good-natured “go-to-hell” look and Severus felt inexplicably light-hearted.  He smirked back and with a lift of his brow, sat the pizza box on the newly-cleansed cabinet. “Tomorrow, I will go to the local green-grocer to get some proper food,” he said, looking at Joseph Pony out of the corner of his eye.

 

“They got a super Wal-mart in Poteau,” Joseph Pony volunteered.  “It's twenty-four hours.”

 

Severus grunted noncommittally.  “Just what we need.”

 

They ate at the now scoured Formica and chrome table and Severus finished cleaning the kitchen and bathroom the Muggle way.  He did it as thoroughly as his mother had taught him all those years ago. 

 

Stella began running a fever and sniffling as they moved the last of their possessions from the caravan to the house.  At Severus' insistence, Joseph Pony retrieved the fever ew he had obtained that day and began preparing the Fever-Rid potion.  Severus sent the girl to the bath as he prepared her bed for her.   He transfigured sheets from the ones she had used on the cot in the caravan.  He wished he had time to launder or at least charm them to cleanliness before she had to use them.  He felt thrice damned as she entered the room and sank onto the bed, her cheeks rosy from the fever.  “Daddy, stay here with me, please.”

 

She coughed and sniffled until her eyes drooped and she fell into a fitful slumber.  Severus smoothed her hair and leaned down to kiss her cheek.  Even though neither of his parents had ever done that for him, he had watched Lucius make the same gesture to Draco over the years.  He felt it was an appropriate gesture for a father to make. 

 

Joseph Pony came to the door.  “Hey, Uncle 'Rus, that woman is here.  I set the potion under a stasis charm so I can watch Stella while you talk to her.”

 

Severus' cheeks felt hot as he passed the boy.  He was unused to such open displays of affection and the embarrassment he felt was compounded by the knowing smile on the boy's face.  Severus scrubbed his hand over his face, wishing he had time to freshen up before having to face the harridan again.  He damned the woman for her timing.

 

“I just came to apologise about this morning.  I was completely in the wrong, and would like a chance to attempt to start over.”  Doctor Dance was sitting on a small built-in seat in the room's bay window.  She stood as he entered.

 

“Hello, Russell Spane, I'm Doctor Antonia Dance.”  She held out a small gift bag.  Severus quirked his brow as he stared down at her extended hand.  She said,  “It's just a little house-warming gift.”

 

“Thank you.”  He placed the gift, unopened, on the mantle to the gas-burning fireplace without another glance.  “Is that all that you wanted to discuss?”

 

The woman inclined her head, the gesture oddly bird-like in its suddenness. “I'll need you to meet me tomorrow morning at eight in the main building so I can set the wards to accept you.”

 

“Uh, Uncle 'Rus?”  Joseph Pony said from the doorway.  “Stella's breaking out in red bumps and I think her fever is higher.”

 

The doctor asked,  “May I see her?”

 

“If it is no imposition.”  Severus inclined his head slightly. 

 

Joseph Pony and the doctor followed him down the dingy hall to Stella's room, a confection of pale lavender and lemon-yellow, and Severus had transfigured the quilt to match.   Joseph Pony murmured something about finishing the fever potion, but Severus' attention was solely on Stella who seemed to be struggling for breath.  He had never in his life felt so helpless as the doctor pushed past him and sat on the edge of the bed.  She asked in a soft voice, “Hi, honey.  Can I do a few tests to see what's wrong with you?”

 

Stella nodded, her eyes dull and her expression listless.  The doctor turned to Severus.  “Mr. Spane, why don't you sit beside her while I do this?  It might be less alarming that way.”

 

Severus positioned himself next to the girl and took her hand awkwardly.  It was dry and hot to the touch, feeling like the underside of a cooling cauldron. 

 

“Okay, honey, there are going to be some lights and a little tickling sensation.  You'll need to hold very still,” said the doctor.  Severus watched with interest as the woman employed tests he had seen Poppy Pomfrey use hundreds of times on students and himself over the years.  The woman's bird-like concentration turned inward, just as Poppy's had on those occasions. 

 

Severus tried to interpret the information the doctor processed, but had never seen the colours that answered the wand work.  A thread of fear spun its way down his spine and Stella tensed.  Severus willed himself to Occlude his mind and meditate.  It was easy to forget the girl was an adept Seer, which always conveyed with it an element of Legilimancy. 

 

Doctor Dance's wand work changed and suddenly Stella's breathing eased while water-filled spots bloomed across her exposed skin.   The doctor sang a few notes on a pentatonic scale, and Stella slipped into a restful sleep, if Severus could judge by the depth of her breathing and the slackness of her face.  He felt himself sag against the wall and blew out a breath.

 

The doctor stood and moved her head, as if easing sore muscles.  “She'll sleep like that through the night, but keep an eye on her.  She'll be too groggy to do much but she may need to eliminate waste.  You'll need to help her.”

 

“What is it that is making her ill?”  Severus said, his voice rumbling as he tried to modulate his volume.

 

The doctor busied herself putting her wand away, avoiding any eye contact with Severus.  “Chicken Pox.”

 

“Impossible, that is a Muggle ailment,” Severus scoffed.   

 

“Generally it is, but your daughter is part Native American,” the doctor answered in the driest of academic tones.  “I'm surprised your wife didn't educate you about that particular aspect of her culture.”

 

“I must have missed that conversation,” Severus sneered, as he extricated himself from his daughter's grasp.  “Please, enlighten me.”

 

The woman gave him a pointed look, her eyes troubled.  She opened her mouth and then closed it with an audible snap.  “I'm sure you know about the history of the Native populations and the diseases that ravaged them when the Europeans made contact?”

 

“I am vaguely aware of the history,” Severus responded, becoming uneasy under the woman's scrutiny.  His overactive sense of self-preservation was clamouring for him to flee.  “The natives had been isolated for millenia, and were not exposed to diseases that ravaged the Muggle world.  What has this to do with a witch having a Muggle disease?”

 

“It's simple really; the International Statute of Secrecy does not apply to the Natives of North and South America.”  she lectured, reminding Severus of a certain Know-It-All.  “They don't apply because the Native Populations never split into Magical and Non-Magical subgroups.  Shamans, Medicine Keepers and the Priests of various meso-American cultures were encouraged to co-mingle with the rest of the tribe, so the immunity conferred by magic is diminished in them.”

 

She looked again as if she were going to ask a question, then stopped herself.  “I'll send over some anti-itch cream for her.  You can apply it tomorrow.  Given her age, the disease should run its course in about a week.”

 

The woman turned abruptly and left the room.  Severus followed, uneasy.

“Thank you for your assistance, Dr. Dance.”

 

“After work, it's Antonia.” 

 

Severus opened the door for her, and with a slight bow, escorted her outside. She gave him one more unsettling look with her dark, changeable eyes. “I hope all has been forgiven.  It is important that we have a good working relationship.”

 

“It has been completely forgotten, Doctor.”  Severus warded the door behind her, unsettled by the questions his ignorance had raised, and unsure how he would answer if she asked them.  

 

&*&*&

 

_Eileen Prince Snape lay in a Muggle hospital bed, her body ravaged by the years of abuse she had suffered.  Her latest injuries, two black eyes, a lip so damaged it would require surgery, three broken ribs, a broken arm and a cracked skull were, in Severus' reckoning, not the worst that she had received from her husband over the years.  He could not, therefore, comprehend why the Muggle Healers held out no hope for her recovery.  She had not awakened in three days, and had lain at the foot of the steep stairs at the family home for days before that; Tobias could not be located._

 

_Severus, at seventeen, struggled manfully against the tears that threatened to fall as he looked upon the woman who had given birth to him.  His entire life, she had been deeply unhappy and struggled to survive the violence inflicted on her by Tobias Snape.  She had little energy left for her son.  On the rare occasion she spared him a thought, it was to send him out of the house away from the screaming and bile-filled hatred.  Severus had met Lily on one of those days that she remembered to protect him.  A mixed blessing, that day._

 

_His last conversation with his mother still resonated in his head.  It had been the summer of his sixteenth year.  She was nursing a split lip and Severus suspected his father had sexually abused her from the way she refused to sit and the stiffness of her movements.  She was never one to confer pet names or sugar the truth.  “Severus, you are approaching the time of an important decision, if you haven't already come to it.”_

_Severus sat at the kitchen table, unsure of how to answer her.  If she meant Lily, she need not worry.  He had put the nail in that coffin at the end of his fifth year.  If she meant the Dark Lord, he only accepted purebloods into his ranks, and thanks to his mother's poor decision, Severus did not fit the bill to be a recruit.  He was fucked either way.  He supposed he could finagle an apprenticeship in Potions or Defence, but would starve while he completed the necessary training.  “What decision, mother?”_

_“You know, Severus.  The Dark Lord is always looking for talent,” Eileen whispered.  It was Friday morning, and Tobias was at work, for once.  The act seemed like superstition to Severus, but years of eradicating any reference to magic by his father, left Eileen afraid to utter certain phrases aloud, no matter what the circumstance._

_Severus sighed gustily, slipping into the Northern accent he had worked so hard to lose during his time in Slytherin.  “You know he won't take me, Mum.  I'm a nothing, a half-blood and poor to boot.”_

_“And you're friends with a Malfoy, don't forget that, son.”  Her voice was sly as she looked out the window, worrying her lip with her tongue.  Severus could almost taste the sting of the cut himself.  He had been on the receiving end of more than a few of Tobias' rages.  “If you do get in, don't let your conscience rule you.  Your father needs to learn a lesson about true power.  If he were to die in the process, it would be no waste, and it might cement your position nearer the top.  If you must kill to achieve your aims, let him be the first.”_

_She had chilled him and enthralled him with her words.  Lucius had discussed getting Severus an introduction once he was clear of the Old Fool and his near omniscience.  It was as if she were giving tacit approval.  Severus' decision was closer then, now that his mother had given her blessing, and Tobias had fewer days left to pollute this earth.  Severus merely looked out the dirty window, his face as hard as his mother's heart._

_Now he sat here, with the Dark Mark etched in his skin only days before and his mother dying, the time was no longer measured in increments of years, weeks or months.  He was waiting for the inevitable outcome of his violent childhood and he was suddenly utterly devoid of feeling as he sensed the agony underlying her comatose state._

_“Forgive me,” he whispered, and flicked his wand forward, uttering the words that would end her life.  He would never have to weep for her again._

_His father’s was not his first murder, but his mother's would not be his last._

 

&*&*&

 

He awoke with a start, his position on the cot he had transfigured precarious, and he nearly fell as he lurched forward.  Stella stirred.  “Daddy, I hafta pee, but I can't get up.”

 

She was crying and he soothed her.  “The doctor said that you might need help.  Do not worry.”

 

He hoisted her surprisingly heavy body and stood her before the waiting toilet.  She wavered between embarrassment and need before she pulled down her knickers and sat.  Severus turned his back, unwilling to risk her wellbeing for misplaced modesty.  He waited in the room until she whinged, “I can't go if I know you're listening.”

 

“Very well, but if you fall...”  He exited the room, but left the door ajar. 

 

After a few moments of silence he heard, “Close the door!  I know you're out there.”

 

He leaned against the wall letting his mind drift. 

 

&*&*&

 

_He found his father a month later, coming out of a pub with barely pubescent girl.  His father was so pissed he did not recognise Severus at first.  Tobias shoved past him.  “Get yer own, this un's bought and paid for tonight.”_

_Severus felt sickened by the presence of the girl, younger than him by years.  He pulled the girl away from Tobias, “Go home to your mum, little girl, I don't want to hurt you.”_

_“ Oh, it's you,” Tobias said, squinting past the hooked nose he had imparted on his one and only offspring,  Severus' only inheritance from his wastrel of a sire.  “Whut, you come to revenge yer numb cunt of a mother?  You don't have the stones.”_

_Severus, for whatever reason, decided to forego the ease of the Aveda Kedavra curse for a more hands-on approach.  The girl, obviously more used to violence of this sort than Severus had judged her, sauntered away in search of another customer, as Severus slowly squeezed the life out of his father.  Once done, Severus cleansed himself of the shit and piss that soaked his robes with a moue of distaste.  He gave the old man a kick in his flaccid gut, satisfied with his night's work.  He Apparated away, needing to ready himself for a dinner party at Malfoy Manor._

 

&*&*&

 

Severus entered the bathroom after he became concerned about the amount of time Stella was taking.  She had fallen asleep on the toilet, her hands hanging limply at her sides as she leaned forward.  Severus picked her up, attempting to pull her knickers up as he did so.  He did not know a charm to dress a person.  She stirred.  “Sorry, Daddy, that I'm such a problem.”

 

“No apologies are needed, my dear.”  He took her back to her room, and spread the covers over her already sleeping form, noting with some relief that her fever was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Please take the time to let me know what you think.


	8. Chapter 7

 

Early the next day, Severus met the Doctor coming out of her bungalow.  She smiled and waved.  “Spane, have you had breakfast yet?”

 

“Yes, Doctor,” Severus answered with a slight inclination of his head. 

 

She laughed, tossing her hair out of her face, the auburn waves glowing gold in the early light.  “We're not at work yet; it's Antonia.  Come with me to the canteen.  I haven't had my coffee and I'm a bear without it.  I suppose you drink tea?”

 

“Only in the evening,” he answered.  He was unused to having to make small-talk. Over the years he had avoided the denizens of Hogwarts by assuming duties that would take him away from the other teachers.  He had also avoided most students at all costs.  He chanced a glance at the woman beside him, and noted the same probing gaze on her face as the evening before.  He said in desperation for something to break her focused consideration, “I suppose I could join you for a cup of coffee.”

 

“Don't make it sound like a punishment,” she said as she began walking toward a small building at the end of the row of cottages. “You know, if you don't want to cook all the time, the canteen is open to the kids, too.  We have a pretty good staff of freed Brownies.”

 

“Brownies?”  Severus was momentarily at a loss. 

 

The doctor laughed aloud.  “Oh yeah, you guys call them house elves.  The ones in the States have been manumitted.  The Thirteenth Amendment, the way it was worded, freed all slaves. I don't think that was the intention, but I read that within minutes of its ratification, the whole race of domestic elves was presented with clothes. There was quite a rebellion over that.  Most of the Brownies went back to England, but a few stayed on.  Most that did, were hybrids between Leprechauns or native wood sprites and house-elves.”

 

“I see,” Severus said.   They had come to the door, and Severus opened it for the doctor to pass, with a slight bow.

 

“Oh, thanks.”  She entered and held the door open with her hand, gesturing for him to enter with her.  “Just don't think that Brownies will act like the house elves in England.  They don't take orders well.  Requests are fine, and gifts are helpful if you offend them.”

 

They entered a cavernous, obviously charmed room.  The interior was functional at best, with tan walls and industrial tiles of indeterminate colour.  The furnishings were eclectic in the range of styles displayed.  The doctor grimaced.  “It's not much, but we call it home.  Come on, I'll show you around.”

 

After a short, uneventful tour in which Severus was introduced to the Brownie staff, the doctor ushered him to a table in the middle of the hall.  The blissful look on her face as she sipped her black coffee amused Severus.  He spooned sugar into his cup and joined her.  After moments of silence between them, she asked, “You said you studied under two Potions Masters; how did that happen?”

 

&*&*&

 

_“ Severus, wake up.” Lucius' voice broke through the nightmare of death and destruction that Severus dreamed.  Severus struggled to sit up, his mind still seeing his father's face, still smelling the noxious miasma of his death.  The Dreamless Sleep was not working anymore.  It had been three months since he had taken care of his duty to his mother, and he had since been plagued by nightmares every night. Malfoy had invited him to stay at the Manor during his final Easter break from Hogwarts, to enable him to better serve the Dark Lord. Severus stretched his long limbs and opened his eyes to the very troubled face of his friend.  The blond wizard asked, “What the bloody hell is this?”_

_Malfoy, who rarely cursed, the act being too coarse for a man of his social standing, was glowering at Severus, holding a cobalt potions bottle in his hand.  “That, Lucius, is a bottle.  Is that why you woke me?”_

_“ Don't be an arse, Severus.  I know this potion.  Did you use it?” the older wizard demanded, his voice nearly breaking on the last words._

_“ Why do I suspect you already have the answer?”  Severus shrugged, not able to meet the other man's eyes.  “And if I did?”_

_“ The night of the party, when you found out about your father, you had already used it, hadn't you?”  Lucius' concern irritated Severus, as had everything these past three months.  “Why?”_

_Severus answered, with feigned diffidence, “I had some unpleasant business to which I had to attend.”_

_“You took it to kill him, didn't you?”  Lucius flung the bottle away.  It landed with a  soft thud against the silk-covered wall.  “Merlin's bollocks, Severus, do you know what Veradunus* Potion can do to you?  It can kill your soul or cause you to go mad with remorse after it wears off.”_

_“ I can read, Lucius.  I thought it worth the risk.”   Severus made to get out of bed._

 

_“ You'll end up like Bellatrix.  Or worse... Him.”  Both men knew not to speak ill of the Dark Lord at any time, even in the vaguest of terms.  That his friend did, spoke of his alarm.  Lucius pinned Severus against the bed, his hand around his upper arm.  “You're leaving England at the end of the term.  I've accepted the apprenticeship for you with Maisters Ursus Major and Minor in Bavaria.  I have arranged for you to have funds available at Gringotts out of my own accounts.  If service to the Dark Lord means you have to risk madness and the death of your soul, Severus, then the price is too high.”_

_“ It was no service to the Dark Lord that I performed, and you know it,” Severus hissed as he shook his friend's hand off.  “My mother asked it of me.”_

_“ The bitch,” Lucius spat._

_Severus sighed.  “That she was, but she was the only one that gave a tinker's damn about me.”_

_“ I care, Severus,” Lucius whispered as he ran a hand over his chest, as if to rub away a transient pain._

_“ Do you, Lucius?  I always assumed you kept me around to make you look better.  Magnanimous Lucius Malfoy, who allows the ugly half-blood to eat at his table, like a kept monkey.  Oh, but I forgot, my blood status is too much of an embarrassment to your wife,” Severus scoffed, his voice mocking.  “How will you use this latest gesture to your advantage?  Will my penury be the topic of pitied conversation over dinner parties?  Or will you use my skill to further your position in the ranks of our Brethren?  Leave off, Lucius,  I've known you too long to believe your protestations of devotion.”_

_“ Believe what you will of me, Severus, but know that I will not allow you to destroy yourself,” Lucius said, his voice a mocking caress.  “I need to know that you are available if things go pear-shaped.  You will leave at the end of the term, and I will explain your absence to the Dark Lord.”_

&*&*&

 

The doctor was waiting, coffee in hand for his reply.  He shook himself from his reverie.

 

“I was fortunate in the friends I had.  One acted as patron and sponsored me with two of the best Potions Masters in Europe, a father and son who took only two other apprentices in their long careers,” Severus answered steadily.  Then asked, wanting to change the topic from himself and his past,  “Tell me, is it common practice for Healers to also become physicians in this country, Dr. Dance?”

 

“Antonia, and not really.” The doctor began spreading cream cheese on her bagel, not meeting his eyes.  “My father is a Muggle.  He insisted that I receive private tutoring in Muggle sciences and arts.  When I became interested in becoming a Healer, it was just a natural extension for me to get my medical degree also. Great Britain had just started a programme and so I interned at Queen's Hospital and St. Mungo's.  Thank God for Time-Turners.”

 

“Ah, yes, Mr. McGowan did say you spent time in England.”  Severus nodded, taking another sip of the bitter-sweet brew.

 

The doctor's face went blank for a moment as she said carefully, “Brick has a big mouth.”

 

“I did not mean to pry.”  Severus was taken aback at the woman's sudden mood shift.  Merlin knew, he would not appreciate enquiry into his past activities any more than the doctor seemed to relish them. 

 

She bit viciously into the bagel, chewed and swallowed, before saying, “I know you didn't mean to get nosey, but I may as well tell you, just to get the BS out of the way.  I was imprisoned at Azkaban after the Voldemort war.  I was a member of a team of physicians and Healers from the World Health Organization after my internship.  We had volunteered on several missions before: one in Rwanda; another in Somalia.  We worked with curse victims .  When WHO asked for volunteers to help in Great Britain, my team went.  We were at the Battle of Hogwarts, and got caught behind the lines. My fiance and several other Healers died when we were attacked by Acromantulas of all things. In the confusion after the battle, the rest of us were incarcerated by the Ministry of Magic.  I stayed on for a few months after my release to tend to the injured prisoners.  I wasn't very popular.”

 

“I am sorry for your troubles,” Severus said, at a loss for anything more comforting to say.

 

“No need to be, unless you were there when I got captured,” she said, her tone bitter.  “You weren't were you?”

 

Severus did not blink as he said, “No, I was occupied elsewhere at the time.”

 

&*&*&

 

Severus spent the better part of the morning attempting to organise the Potions laboratory.  The former occupant of the suite of rooms had left it in complete disarray.  The doctor had asked a Brownie to be at his disposal if he needed.  After several hours of pointless shuffling of detritus from one area to the other, Severus finally threw up his hands in despair.  A small, low-voiced query from the corner of the room startled him.

 

“Does the Potions Master give up?” a small brown creature, much like a house-elf, but without the irritating cringing, asked.  “We would be happy to help him, if given the proper gifts.”

 

“No, I bloody well do not give up,” Severus barked to the creature's great amusement.  “Furthermore, I will not give you a gift for doing a job to which you were assigned.”

 

It twittered, a sound like fingernails on a chalkboard. “I is thinking this Potion's Master is different from the last one.  I is also thinking that the Dark Mark this one carries has a different meaning than the one’s before.”

 

“Do not attempt to blackmail me.”  Severus cast his eyes down to his completely cloth-encased left arm then glared at the creature, who merely smiled as its bulging eyes and thin lips took on a sly cast.

 

The creature bowed mockingly, its head brushing the floor.  “No, never blackmail,  you is a man of many secrets, no doubt about that, it is not this Brownie's place to tell anyone about them.  I is only wanting us to understand each other.  I is Mari, and I is telling you not to expect cringing foolishness from me.  We is Freed Brownies here, not like those enslaved in your homeland.”

 

“So I've been informed,” Severus said sourly, turning back to the jumble of ingredients before him.  “You may tell the other creatures that I have been made aware of your status.  Leave now.”

 

The irritating creature remained.  “You is not liking Mari, but she will remain.  Severus Snape is a great man, even amongst us Freed Brownies.”

 

“Do not ever utter that name again,” Severus hissed as he moved to tower over the creature menacingly.  “There is no one by that name here, only Russell Spane.”

 

The Brownie laughed.  “As I said before, Mari is keeping your secrets.  I is only here to help the great man no matter what name he uses.”

 

“Well get busy then, and do not bollocks things up any further than they already are,” Severus snapped.  He turned back to his work, slightly uneasy about the creature's knowledge of his secrets.

 

&*&*&

 

_The Old Woman was making fry bread again, her hands tattooing the slapping noises that Severus had grown used to over the last months.  A hot breeze blew in the room, a zephyr wind that brought ill-tidings.  Severus sipped his tea, an iced concoction the Old Woman preferred over the more civilised and entirely too hot ambrosia Severus favoured.  He felt the ice clink against his teeth, still painful from the visit he had made to the dentist this afternoon while the Old Woman was at Rapid City Regional Hospital confirming her own diagnosis.  “Boy, you haven't asked my what the doctor said."_

_“ Is there a need?” Severus asked dryly.  “You already had the diagnosis by the Rosebud Clinic, and I had a Healer come for you.  You are  dying.  There are no questions.”_

_The words were bitter in his mouth, ashes and bile.  He hated her at the moment for coaxing him to feel something for her and the two children, only to have the tender feelings ripped from his breast, once more._

_“ You're a hard one, ennit?” she said, her hands still patting dough industriously, her mouth curved in a thin smile. “I know a lot of people hurt you bad, boy, but I need you to pull yourself together for them two in there.  I want you to watch them for me while I do my dyin', cause I think you're the one they love the most.”_

_'Love.” Severus hurled the world form his mouth.  “No one has ever loved me, Old Woman.  Manipulated me, used me, discarded me, yes.  Love?  No.  Find someone else to whom you can spoon that pabulum.”_

_“ You tellin' me you don't feel nothin' for them two?”  The Old Woman carefully placed the dough in the iron frying pan, so the grease would not pop._

_“ I made it my career to feel nothing for anyone, except maybe mild contempt.” Severus took another sip of tea, growing used to the pain._

_'Boy, I dreamed last night of a white man with white hair that cried like a baby when he was told you died.”  the Old Woman said, turning the bread.  “He was a bad man that done bad things, but he cared for you, like a brother.  I know.  I seen it.”_

_Severus wanted to scoff but knew the Old Woman was, more often than not, speaking the truth.  Lucius was yet another one of the long list of people he had failed.  The wizard stood, knocking back the iced-tea in one smooth draw.  “I will do what I must, Madam.  When the time comes, I will take the children with me.  Do not ask for more from me; I cannot give it.”_

_She pulled the bread out of the hot grease and handed it to him on a paper plate.  “Here; the first one's always for you.”_

 

&*&*&

 

Severus came home dirty and tired from his day's labours.  The Brownie, Mari, accompanied him to the house, whittering on about taking care of the children and cooking a proper meal.  No doubt the breed had inherited traits designed specifically to irritate Severus.  He turned to the creature as he opened the front door.  “I will suffer your presence only so long as you remain silent.”

 

Mari's ears drooped, as her English counterparts’ might, but the warning gleam in her eye was wholly her own.  “You is going to owe plenty of gifts by the time you leave here.” 

 

Joseph Pony was stirring pancake batter when he saw her and he gave a little yelp.  “Uncle 'Rus, how did you come to bring a Chapa spirit home?”

 

“I is not Chapa, I is Mari.  Chapa was my many greats-grandfather.”  The Brownie looked at the boy, affronted.  “You is the shunkawakhan chinkshi**, where is the _wichahpi ** ?”_

 

Joseph Pony pushed the whisk in the batter, avidly scanning Mari as if she were a delight to behold.   “She's in her room.  Can you tell _Chapa thunkashila_ ** where we are, we would like to honour him.”

 

The Brownie scowled.  “Is that all you wish, Little Pony?  Why not ask for brother Spider to come and grant all your dirty wishes.  Move aside.  You is ruining the food.”

 

Severus retreated down the hall, amused at the reverence the Brownie evoked in Joseph Pony.  He pushed open the door to Stella's room after knocking.  She was asleep, the pustules from the night before now suppurating.  He retrieved the Anti-Itch cream from the bedside table and sat next to her.  She cracked her eyes open and smiled beatifically.  “Daddy, you're home.”

 

She stretched luxuriously then hugged him.  “I missed you.”

 

“And I you, my dear,” Severus said over the constriction in his throat.  “Do you need any of the cream to be applied?”

 

“No, Joseph Pony did it a little while ago.”  She scrunched her face.  “You stink like Joseph Pony when he brews.”

 

He gave a little one-sided smile.  “I know.  Rest, and I will wake you for dinner.”

 

“Kiss me,” Stella demanded, pushing her pocked face toward him.

 

He leaned over and placed his lips on her cheek, suddenly feeling breathless and irritated.  After an endless moment, he pulled away.  “That is enough, my dear.  Your demands would try a saint.”

 

Joseph Pony said from the hall, “And you know he ain't no saint, Stella.”

 

The older wizard and the young witch shared a smile between them.  Joseph Pony stuck his head in the room.  “Hey, squirt, Uncle 'Rus brought home a guest.  Chapa's grand-daughter is here and she's cooking supper for us.”

 

“No way!”  Stella shouted, as Severus stood and went to the bathroom.  He could hear the two bantering good-naturedly until he closed the door.  

 

 

   

 

 

 

* **Veradunus** -a:  A Celto-Gallic god  with two aspects.  The female form, **Veraduna** and the male form **Veradunus** , have two possible interpretations of the name:  Utter Darkness, wero= utter, dun= brown/dark, or d'no= defender giving rise to the second interpretation Utter defender or fortress.  I liked the name because of the duality of meaning.

 

*From: [geocities dot com](geocities%20dot%20com/opzel57/g3.html:%20%20Chapa%20is%20a%20Lakota%20beaver%20spirit%20who%20is%20lord%20of%20domesticity,%20labor%20and%20preparation.%20) [ /opzel57/g3.html:  Chapa is a Lakota beaver spirit who is lord of domesticity, labor and preparation. ](geocities%20dot%20com/opzel57/g3.html:%20%20Chapa%20is%20a%20Lakota%20beaver%20spirit%20who%20is%20lord%20of%20domesticity,%20labor%20and%20preparation.%20)

**From [eLexicon dot com /Lakota/iyapi/words2.html:](Here) 

 

shunkawakhan chinkshi :  Horse son (Joseph Pony's name.) 

 

**wichahpi:**   Star (Stella) 

**Chapa thunkashila** **:** Grandfather Beaver

 

 


	9. Chapter 8

  _He was nine again in his dream, hopelessly bullied by his father and ignored by his mother.  He watched through their bedroom door as, in a rare moment of tenderness, his parents danced.  His mother laughed at something his father whispered in her ear and he kissed her.  She stroked his face lovingly.  The Severus boy/man of his dream state sighed, wishing his childhood could have had more of those moments.  Things might have been different then.  He turned away from the scene, quaking because he knew what came next, the ugly words, the harsh accusations, the drinking and much more pain and terror than to which any child should be exposed.  The daily reality, not the idealised moment.  The Old Woman was suddenly beside him in his dream.  She took his hand, saying, “No, Boy, you need to see this.  What comes later won't happen for years.  Look.”_

_He turned back, watching as his ugly, bitter father kissed his terrifying mother's hand.  She shut the door, leaving the adult part of Severus knowing what they did, while the child part wished painfully to be included.  He felt hot tears on his face and tasted the salt of them.  The old Woman said, “You see, Boy, even though you remember the worst most, there were good times too, before...”_

_Before his home life had crashed that final time, after the letter from Hogwarts.  That had been the worst summer of his life as his father attempted to beat the magic out of him and his mother failed to protect him.  Neglected and alone, he faced his life, but then there had been Lily, always Lily, with her bright mind and ethereal beauty.  She had everything he ever wanted, was the only lifeline that was tossed to him that last summer at Spinner's End.  Severus saw himself with her, his mismatched clothes gleaned from various charity bins, both wizarding and Muggle, his father's coat around his shoulders, to cover the embarrassing truth, the only comfort Severus had ever really received from that man.  He had always wanted so much more from the elder Snape, but the desire was fruitless._

_He watched as Lily flew, laughed, lay in the dappled sun under the stand of trees in which they always met.  Tunie was there too, her horsey face and doom-saying ways always unwelcome.  Severus really had not made the tree branch fall on her, but he had not been sorry it did.  Stella, in the way of dreams, appeared.  “Daddy, you know she never felt what you did, don't you?  She always thought the worst of you, even when it wasn't your fault.”_

_He wanted to be shut of the truth the imp spoke, so he turned, and was greeted by the scene that defined him forever.  His murder of his father.  He had thought the use of the Veradunus Potion was acceptable.  It had been taken by Gallic warrior-priests to subvert their natural tendencies to mercy.  It allowed them to feel nothing as they sacrificed warriors from rival tribes, fortifying their minds against the horror they had to inflict to appease their blood-gods.  It was meant to be imbibed when the user was not emotionally involved with the subject.  Severus justified his use of it, telling himself he had no more feelings for his father than he would a rabid dog,  but he had not known how much he still loved his father, still yearned for his approval, when he had strangled him._

_The potions book, he had gleaned it, from had warned of its potential side-effects if used incorrectly.  Lucius had been right in his assessment that Severus would soon go mad.  Severus did, his paranoia increasing over the next year, until the Herren Ursi had developed the antidote for him.  They had cared for him in their somewhat absent manner, had nursed him through the worst of the psychosis, and had even put his name on the paper they wrote after developing the cure, omitting, of course, the reason for the development.  Severus had been grateful.  He sobbed when he had to leave Bavaria, the two men had given him their blessings and offered him protection, but his acceptance would have endangered them, and Severus felt too grateful to them to allow harm to come because of his worthless hide.  Harm had come anyway in the form of a heretofore unknown cutting curse, used to silence them about Severus' affiliations.  The Dark Lord's executioner had been thorough._

_Severus attended their funeral, fearing for everyone he had ever known.  More tears fell, and he cried until he had no more, until Lily was murdered.  After that loss, he had worn his bitterness and anger like a suit of armour._

_He had hurt so badly for so long that he did not know he could feel anything but pain._

_Joseph Pony was there, his hand on the older wizard's shoulder, as Severus sank to the earth, his fingers scrabbling in the soil, as if to resurrect the bodies of those dead by his own hand or by his toxic presence in their lives.  He cast his eyes around for Joseph Pony, fearing he would lose the boy.  The boy knelt beside him.  Severus begged, “Leave me before I harm you, too.  I have a way of doing that, you know.”_

_The boy took his hands, as the Old Woman and Stella loomed behind and beside. Severus wondered if he were actually dreaming, or on some other plane of existence._

_“You know I love you, Daddy.  I wish you could see that...”_

_“You know I love you, Boy.  I wish you could see that...”_

_“You know I love you, Uncle 'Rus.  I wish you could see that ...”_

_The three spoke simultaneously, propelling Severus toward wakefulness._

 

&*&*&

 

He woke with their words echoing in his mind.  He cast a _Tempus_ charm.  It was three in the morning.  He knew his time for sleep was over; the pain that seemed to be centred in his heart was too great to bear with nothing to occupy his mind.  For the first time in years, however, it was not caused solely by his complicity in Lily's death.  His pain also encompassed his lost childhood. He ached for the love Dream-Stella had said was his.  He was forty-two years old, and he could honestly say that he had never known what it was like to be loved by another person.  The thought that someone might, frightened him beyond measure.  He ground his fists into his eyes, a childish gesture to be sure, but one that was satisfying in the pain it caused, momentarily negating the internal turmoil he felt.  

 

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, feeling old and tired this early in the morning.  Today was Stella's first day of proper school.  The doctor-- Antonia, he heard her say in her exasperated tone-- had set up an entrance exam for the girl at a prestigious regional academy right after Stella had recovered from the chicken pox.  She had scored well, and had been placed a year above other children of her age.  Today, he would see her off to the academy which was located in a small wizarding town on the outskirts of Oklahoma City called Meridian.  She would stay the week there, and be able to come home on weekends by Floo. He had wanted her to be able to come home every night, but the cost of the Floo powder would have been prohibitive. Stella had not been pleased about the length of her stay away from her family either, but had been induced to comply by a bribe.

 

The bribe lay on a throw rug in Severus' room, a small black and tan dog with a tiny stub of a tail and ears that flipped down comically at the tips.  For some reason, the bitch, dubbed Miss Loco by Joseph Pony for her main personality trait, had decided that once Stella was asleep, she should sleep with Severus in his room.  He had loathed the beast at first, but that feeling had been overcome the first time the dog captured a field mouse that had plagued their kitchen and proudly laid it at his feet.

 

Stella had insisted that Severus obtain the services of a dog trainer, so that Miss Loco might fit into the family better, and went so far as to borrow several dog ownership manuals from Brick.  Severus dutifully read them, and discovered that dogs were rather intelligent, if undignified, animals. He would tolerate the little beast as long as it was well-behaved and continued to rid the household of vermin.

 

Severus pulled on his trousers and a vest, and the dog popped up eagerly.  “Go back to sleep.  I will not feed you before seven.”

 

The dog ignored him, padding behind him as he took care of his morning business.  He watched her as she pranced around him, her elegant paws dancing out of his way when he stepped toward the shower.  “Turn your head, Miss.  I am rather diffident about my looks.”

 

The dog cocked her head, seemingly listening.  She made a noise between a yawn and a yip,  and settled in the doorway, closing her eyes.  Severus smirked, shrugging out of his clothes.  “I knew you were tolerable, but do not expect me to admit I said that to anyone.”

 

&*&*&

 

He thought he might monitor the brewing process he had started last night on the variation of Wolfsbane Antonia had devised.  He was unsure about the efficacy of the batch and was glad that he had talked his employer into using the variation he had devised for Lupin during the wolf's teaching sojourn at Hogwarts. 

 

He blew out a pent-up breath as he cast his eyes over the Arithmantic calculations spread before him on the table, which had seemed a little off when the doctor, Antonia, had presented the new formulations to him.  He supposed the team would find out when they administered the brew to the were-coyotes in a few days.  He then settled into the familiar and calming rhythm of chopping when he had an uneasy feeling of being watched.  His hand jerked when he heard the doctor's voice from the doorway, a husky timbre he found oddly pleasing, “Don't you ever sleep?”

 

He scowled as he noticed the score he had put in the table.  He rubbed his thumb over the mark as the woman entered the room uninvited.  “What is it, Antonia?”

 

He stressed the name, letting the woman know her presence was neither welcomed nor appropriate.  She sat on a stool next to him, yawning.  “We have a new test subject.  She's a werewolf about seventeen years old.  She was infected and kicked out of her parents’ house. Johnson found her in New Orleans.  I got her settled in a secure cottage and couldn't go back to sleep.  What about you?”

 

“You know me, duty first.” Severus chanced a glance at Antonia's wan face and felt unaccountably sympathetic to the woman.  Whatever her flaws, she was a dedicated Healer who genuinely cared about the efficacy of the research.  “I was unaware that this facility would be doing... werewolf testing”

 

“Well, now you know.”  She brushed his black-clad right arm with her fingertips.  “You know, when summer comes, you're going to have to wear different clothes.  The heat, here in Oklahoma, isn't what you're used to.”

 

“That is what cooling charms are for, Madam.”  He pulled his arm away, wondering at the tingle of awareness such an impersonal touch could evoke.  “Will the creature be allowed to roam at will?”

 

“The girl, Russell, will be allowed all the freedoms a seventeen-year-old should have.”  Severus followed the progression of Antonia's thoughts as she sought the hem of her jumper, worrying it with her blunt-tipped fingers.  “I would ask that you and Joseph Pony stay away from her for the time being.  As I said, she was living on the streets when Johnson found her.  Her story is typical and not pretty.  She's very afraid of men.”

 

“But not Johnson?”  Severus cursed himself for being drawn into the conversation.  He did not need to know about the sexual orientation of any of the inmates of this compound, and he had already surmised that Johnson was what his former students would have called a poof. 

 

Antonia laughed, the throaty sound affecting Severus in way he truly did not welcome.  He shifted, thinking that he might need to make the acquaintance of a certain type of woman in the near future.  He had not needed to avail himself of that particular type of service in years.  She touched his shoulder.  The Potions Master almost purred with awareness. “You know Johnson, do you really need to ask?”

 

“I'll go see if Mari has any coffee made. She likes you, you know.”  She turne her attention to some of his scattered notes. “I'd love to look over your modifications to the Wolfsbane potion, if you don't mind,”  she said, standing and cocking her hand on her hip. “Oh and, Russell, Johnson is always looking for the perfect man; you want me to drop your name in the hat?  He could do much worse than you.”

 

Severus scowled and said repressively, “If I were so inclined, I am sure I would be able to act on my own behalf, Doctor.”

 

“You're so easy,” she said with a wink and then left the room, her laughter echoing in the breezeway as she exited. 

 

Severus sat stunned and unmoving.  The woman had just winked at him.  That particular gesture had never been directed his way before. What had she meant by it? Even with the teasing tone of her words, he had not felt derision from her.   

 

It was probably just an overly-friendly Americanism that Severus had, somehow, missed in his travels.  Of course, there was no class on American etiquette that he might take.  He must not read anything into such a simple gesture; the wink had most likely been a reflex.  Yes, her eyes had appeared a little red when she entered the room.   

 

He blinked, feeling a slight headache building behind his eyes.  The result of his confusion, no doubt.  He returned to the roots he had been slicing, hoping he would not act foolishly.

 

&*&*&

 

_It was September, his seventh year at Hogwarts, and he was on the train, riding, as usual, alone in his compartment.  He had already read all the textbooks and had done all of his summer work. This would be his final year at Hogwarts, and the beginning of his destiny.  He watched as students filed into the train, after having left the loving arms of their parents.  Severus had seen himself off.  His father had been too hungover and his mother too bruised to see him to the station.  He vowed that when he had a family, his offspring would never live the life he had._

_He saw a flash of red outside the window and followed it with his eyes.  Lily.  The familiar ache seeing her caused was unwelcome.  He opened a book, keeping his eyes on the page, unseeing until she passed.  He blinked, feeling a slight headache building behind his eyes.  The result of repressed emotion, no doubt._

_Cold enveloped him as a sneering voice spoke, “So, junior Death Eater, have you taken the Mark yet?”_

 

 Black.  _Severus marked his place in the book, as if it had been his focus.  He turned his eyes toward his enemy.  He opened his mouth to speak when Lily interrupted.  “Just leave him alone, Sirius.  He's not worth the detention you'll have with Filch.”_

_Severus turned his gaze to her, and was again shocked to see the hatred and pain in them.  He had royally screwed things up his fifth year.  He wished he could go back and change that one thing. Then she would have fallen in love with him, and they would have lived happily.  He sighed, knowing the path he could take to get her attention.  He could impress her still if he rose in the ranks of the Death Eaters.  She would not be able to ignore his brilliance then.  His ugliness would not be so glaring._

_He started to speak to her, to say, in a normal tone, 'Hello, Lily, it's been a long time.'_

_But she turned her scornful eyes from him as Potter grabbed her from behind and she squealed.  Then Potter kissed her and Severus' world shattered.  He would never forgive her.  Never._

_As she left with Potter, he realised with a sinking feeling, he already had._

 

&*&*&

 

Stella was seated forlornly in the window seat of the parlour when he returned.  She was dressed in her new school uniform, a maroon button-down with the school crest on the pocket, tan slacks and a short, black, student robe.  Loco was sitting next to her, the dog's paws crossed and its alert focus solely on the girl.  Stella swung her foot back and forth as she ran a comb through her hair.  She noticed Severus enter the room and paused, her face a mask of pique and sorrow.  “Hi, Daddy.”

 

Severus sat next to her on the bench,  “Would you like me to do your hair before we leave?”

 

“Please,” she whispered.  His throat felt constricted as he took the comb from her hand and parted her hair in three, even portions.  He began plaiting it, a skill he had learned from her grandmother, making sure it was neither too tight nor too loose.  He would miss her managing presence during the week, a turn of events he would have never dreamed would come to pass.   He heard her sniffling and swallowed around the lump in his throat.  The girl was not ready to leave home and stay away for so long.  She would miss her cousin and the new dog.  “Daddy, if we got rid of Miss Loco, and I didn't ask for birthday or Christmas gifts, could we afford Floo powder, so I could come home everyday?”

 

The older wizard's resolve wavered further.  Of course she would have gifts and the beast.  He thought that if he did away with his subscription to _American Potions_ and _Potions Today_ , he could afford to bring her home every day.  His work would suffer only marginally.  He opened his mouth to say so when Joseph Pony came into the room with a small bag. 

 

“Uncle 'Rus, I've got something to say to you, and I want you to just listen.  I've saved everything I've made from the potions we've sold.  I want to buy Floo powder with it so that Stella can come home every night.  She needs to be here, and it's what Nana would have wanted.”

 

The three stared at each other for a few moments, each unwilling to break the momentary accord, when a knock sounded on the front door.  Joseph Pony placed the pouch by Severus and answered the door.  Antonia entered, asking cheerfully, “Am I interrupting anything?”

 

She stopped before Severus as her face fell into softer lines and small smile lit it.   Severus finished tying the braid with the elastic band Stella provided.  He kept his eyes down as he did so, not wanting to risk acting foolishly, even now that he had surmised that the moment this morning had most likely been irritated eyes.  “Hello? Earth to Russell?”

 

She was waving her hand in front of his face like a lunatic.  He  snorted.  “Yes, Antonia, I am busy.”

 

“I'm sorry.”  He heard the disappointment in her voice and could not help but look up at her.  She smiled, hesitantly.  “May I speak to you privately?”

 

Severus nodded, casting a warning glance at the children.  They went to the porch where the doctor was chaffing her arms in the morning chill.  Severus sat on the porch swing, indicating with an inclination of his head that she was welcome to join him.  She sat next to him, her posture stiff as she began, “Brick told me that Stella will be staying in Meridian during the week.”

 

Severus chuckled softly, the sound rusty to his ears.  “That seems to be the topic of conversation this morning.”

 

“Yeah, well, that's why I'm here.  The compound's budget is coming for the third quarter, and I have requested consideration in it for Stella's transportation to and from school.”  The doctor's hands twisted in her lap and Severus suddenly felt he had to look away as he pictured his hand covering their frantic movements.  “I just received a Fire-call from corporate a few minutes ago, and they've approved the Floo powder expense, so she can come home at night, if you want.”

 

Severus felt his face stiffen, he had not made his embarrassment public.  “That was a private family matter, Madam.  I do not appreciate your interference or your managing ways.”

 

Severus stood sharply, shaking the swing as he did so.  “Please inform the corporation that the funds will not be needed, as I have more than enough wherewithal to take care of my own family.”

 

He stalked to the front door and slammed it shut. 

 

&*&*&

 

_“Sev, do all wizards dress as funny as you?” Lily asked, her green eyes wide and innocent of malice._

_Severus hunched his shoulders.  “Dunno.  Mum's the only one I know besides you.”_

_“Don't you have any grandparents or aunts and uncles?”  Lily's questioning gaze lifted to his, and he was glad she was distracted from her original question.  He hated being poor._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Please take the time to let me know what you think.


	10. Chapter 9

 

For the last fortnight, the Doctor had avoided Severus, only speaking to him if the matter was unavoidable.  He was surprised by the sudden desire he felt to make such dire circumstances occur.  He found himself in great need of her assistance more frequently as the days wore on, and he invoked her offer of help with an almost boyish glee in the torture his presence provided her.  More often than not, Brick or Johnson were dispatched to initially deal with the problems Severus presented.  Today, however, the preliminary test of the Doctor's formula would be underway on the were-coyotes.  The more dangerous werewolf, Charmaine DuPre, would receive Severus' formula.  There had been a heated debate over which test subjects would receive whose formula.  Severus had won, as he rightly pointed out that his had been tested on a human subject before and its efficacy had been proven.  Antonia had given in with bad grace while Severus smirked his superiority.

The doctor was waiting at his laboratory door, her face held too impassive for belief in the expression.  Severus released the wards he had erected after her last visit, a visit in which she had observed his near breakdown.  He had been having a flashback just before she appeared, one of a long bout of torture inflicted by Bellatrix, after she had convinced the Dark Lord that Snape's sympathies were suspect.   The doctor's concerned voice had pulled him out of it, but he was left shaking and perspiring.  She had gruffly treated him for hypoglycemia, a Muggle disease he had only heard of in passing, forcing orange juice and Saltines on him, until the symptoms had desisted.  It was when she tried to roll up his left sleeve, to better take his pulse, that he had reacted badly.

He regretted batting at her hand, and the momentary sympathy that was lost because of it, but he could risk no one seeing that particular arm and the lightened blemish that still stained it.   _ Russell Spane _ was a former low-level bureaucrat in the labyrinthine Ministry.  Severus Snape was a wanted criminal.

_ Maybe. _

He waved the doctor into the room, suppressing the awareness he felt as she approached.  He shivered as her low voice caressed his ears.  “What is it this time, Spane?”

“ The potion is ready,” Severus said simply, suddenly wishing he could apologise for his pride, willful baiting and... existence.  He hunched his narrow shoulders, suddenly miserable.  The doctor's withdrawal of goodwill was no real surprise, Lily had done the same to him when he had reacted in anger.  He clenched his fists underneath the worktable, suddenly wishing he had no responsibilities like children, beasts or apprentices, so that he might flee as he had done before.

He heard the woman sigh, so close her breath ruffled his oily locks.  “Spane.”

“ Yes, Doctor?” He tried to cover the misery in his voice with the coolness of the Hogwarts Professor persona.  It did not work.  Even he could hear the dull tone of it. 

“ You're such an ass,” the doctor began, her tone strangely conciliatory and almost affectionate.  Snape glanced at her face, his beetle-black eyes searching.  She smiled.  “I like you, I don't know why.  Can we just forget about the whole issue of the money and the last two weeks?'

He quirked his brow, struggling between the urge to scowl and smile.  “Ass, as in beast of burden?”

“ As in hole.”  She conjured a seat next to his, smiling broadly.  “Now, let's talk about how we're going to administer the potions.”

&*&*&

_ He was seven, not yet cognizant of the wrongness that gripped his family.  His mother sat at the small chrome and formica table gleaned from a second-hand shop, leftovers from some Yank serviceman's family.  The yellow top of it gleamed in the dull room and Severus admired the colour.  It looked like sunshine, and outdoors, and a far away land with hooting Indians and cowboys with six-shooters like the ones he had seen at the films he had sneaked into on the Saturdays when his dad was at home.  He clambered into the seat across from his mum, his stomach rumbling.  _

__

_ “ What're you looking at, boy?”  His mother's tone was dull, almost hateful.  His parents must have had another row last night after his dad came home.  He knew it was dangerous for him to be in the house at a time like this, so he remained silent, looking intently at the yellow.  Up close, it was streaked with patterns like a fine cloth.  _

__

_ “ You're ugly just like he is.”  His mother's hand snaked across the table and placed a resounding slap on his cheek and ear.  He wanted to howl, but bit his tongue instead.  “I asked you a question, boy.” _

__

_ “ I'm hungry,” he mumbled through hair too long for Muggle school.  He had been told by the headmaster to get it cut a week ago, so his mother had told him he need not go.  A wizard from a good family never wore his hair short. _

__

_ His mum smirked sourly.  “Well, I suppose that makes two of us.  If your father had a quid to spare for anything but whores and booze, maybe you could eat.” _

__

_ Severus looked down at the yellow that had been a happy colour only moments before, and hated it for his poorness, his anger and his hunger.  When he grew up, he would never be hungry again and he would be rich and handsome.  Maybe he would even live in a far off place with Indians and cowboys.  The world was full of possibilites outside this room and the yellow table and the sour anger of this house. _

&*&*&

The werewolf was not what Severus expected.  She was a pretty enough girl with features similar to any number of black teens he had seen, with her slanted almond eyes, full lips, cinnamon skin and wildly curling brown-black locks. The only thing to mar her looks was the long kelloidal scar that ran the length of one arm.  She sat huddled on the small institutional sofa, her arms clasped around her midriff. 

She seemed so  _ innocent . _

Antonia stayed Severus' progress into the sitting room with a wave of her hand.  “Charmaine, I'd like you to meet Master Russell Spane.  He's the one that developed the potion we're going to try on you tonight.”

“ I've seen him.”  The girl's yellow-brown eyes darted to him then back to the spot on the wall that had earned her attention before the interruption.   “Did you come to gawk at the freak too?”

“ I have been forced to endure the society of werewolves before.”  Severus' tone was dry, bordering on contemptuous.  “The breed has never held a particular fascination for me.  So the answer to your query is, in a word, no.”

The girl's eyes flicked to him again, assessing the truth of his statement.  “He can come in.”

Antonia's facial muscles tightened perceptibly as Severus entered the room.  She stopped him with her hand on his arm, whispering,  “You could be nicer to her, you know.”

“ I could,” Severus replied, a tight sneer marring his features.  “But then she would have sensed the falsity of my demeanor, and I would not have gained entrance.”

Severus addressed the girl, not unkindly, “Miss DuPre, I need to gather a bit of history from you.  Would you be kind enough to answer my questions?”

“ The doctor's already gotten all of it out of me that I care to tell.”  The girl edged her body away from him. “I'm cursed, there you go.”

“ And I am ugly; do you think that comprises my full history?”  Snape uttered, his self-deprecating tone mirrored in the tight, tooth-covering smile he gave her.

The girl turned sharply to him with a hiss.  It took all Severus' self-control not to draw back from the beast.  Werewolves were just magical dogs, after all, and dogs could be intelligent.  He held her contemptuous gaze, until she said, “I bet you being ugly didn't help things.”

“ And I suppose you having canines, pointed ears and fur once a month has aided you?” Severus shot back, his tone acid.  Antonia's sharp intake of breath was the only noise that broke the silence in the room. 

The girl looked away again. “You wouldn't be so hard to look at if you smiled once in a while.”

“ And, you, Miss DuPre, need to realise that I am only here because it is my job.  There is no pressing need for me to suffer your presence.”  Severus gathered his robes as if to leave.

“ Jerk.”

“ Harridan.”

“ Man, I don't even know what that means,” the werewolf sneered, and then shrugged her shoulders in a reticent gesture of aquiescence under Severus' further scrutiny.  “Okay, Old Ugly, you win.  I'll answer your damn questions.”

Severus began with the standard queries, childhood illnesses, magical knowledge, schooling then pressed, “Relate to me how you were attacked.”

“ I don't want to talk about it.”  The girl broke out in a thin sheen of perspiration across her brow and upper lip.  “Please, don't make me.”

She turned her eyes to his imploringly as she clutched tighter at her midriff.  Severus sat back in the seat he had taken.  He regarded her a moment, letting calm that he did not feel steal over him, forcing a featureless, black wall to the forefront of his mind.  It was a technique he had not used since his days before the war. 

Antonia fussed around the girl.  “It's okay, Charmaine, if you don't want to speak about it yet.”

Severus held up his hand, quelling the doctor's chatter with the simple movement.  “There is a way for me to obtain the information without you having to relate it verbally.  It will not be pleasant, but you will not be burdened with the telling.”

&*&*&

_ Severus knew what it felt to be violated.  He had just spent ten horrific minutes with Lucius in his mind, reliving past transgressions and the tortures at the hands of, and inflicted on the Marauders.  He had only been able to block Lucius effectively when he had come close to the memories of Lily.  _

__

_ The older Slytherin patted him on the shoulder.  “That was better, you pushed me out that time, but you really need to focus on having no reaction to the intrusion.  That will hold your Occlumency shields better.  Let's try again.” _

__

_ Severus cringed inwardly, but focused on the way he felt when he tried to dodge his parents' notice. He presented himself as a featureless, black wall.  Severus waited for the battering to begin.  He felt the pull of Lucius' mind and suddenly he was reliving the first row he had seen where his father had actually drawn blood from his mother... then he was ten, watching Lily fly through the air... and it was yesterday he was being bullied by Black.  Lucius paused over this last memory letting it spin out as Black taunted Severus with the name he so hated.  Black caressed his cheek.  “Aw, maybe Snivellus likes boys, that's why he always whinges.  You want me to kiss it and make it better?” _

__

_ Severus muttered a curse and Black fell back against the wall, gasping for breath.  Lupin bent to Black, his voice hoarse as he said, “Get out of here, Snape.” _

__

_ Then he was standing before his father being whipped with the thick leather belt that the old man kept around for such purposes.  He was eleven and it was just the last summer.  The sweat ran down the back of his neck into his welts, stinging horribly, but Severus refused to make a sound.  The old man raised his arm again, panting with the effort.... then Severus was watching Lily, wanting to... _

__

_ “ No!”  Severus gave a shout, and Lucius was forced out of his mind.  The blond leaned against a pillar of the four-poster, panting and clutching at his head.  After a few moments, the older boy said softly, “I thought I was the only one whose dad hated him. Merlin, Severus, I think you have it worse than me.” _

__

_ “ Do not mention him again.”  Severus was standing, his wand drawn and pointing at Lucius' eye.  “Ever.” _

__

_ “ Mention who?” Lucius let his face fall to a look of complacent innocence.  “Really, old man,  you will have to master Occlumency if you're going spend any time in the presence of my father at Ostara.  He is the purest of the purebloods.” _

__

_ Lucius straightened his already perfect robes.  “Practice the exercises I told you about and we'll work more tomorrow.” _

__

&*&*&

Severus explained the procedure he would employ, in great detail to Antonia, out of hearing of the girl.  He could tell, several times, she wished to interrupt and noted the effort of will it took her to refrain from doing so.  He said, in conclusion,  “This method is more an interrogation technique than the medical  _ Legillimancy _ you might employ.  It is more directional than the scatter-shot approach Mental-Healers are taught.”

“ Interrogation method?  That's a common technique for Potions Masters to learn in England?”   Antonia's gaze was sharp, pricking his conscience as he remained impassive.

He answered, spinning an almost Malfoy drawl from is repertoire, “Potions development is a very cutthroat business.”

“ Yeah.”  Antonia shook her head as if to clear it of the questions, but the gleam of curiosity was still in her gaze.  “The procedure you're suggesting can be very harmful if it's not done by someone she trusts.  Why do you need to know about the specifics of her attack?  Please don't say curiosity.”

“ Hardly, Doctor.”  Severus leaned against the desk in the office to which they had adjourned. “How long have you been working with werewolves?”

Antonia compressed her lips.  “I've only worked with two.  Most of my knowledge of them comes from reading various original sources.  I take it you've had more experience?”

“ Yes.”  Severus battled with his desire to relate just what experience he had.  Lupin had been his first and Greyback's so-called pack his latest, but the Maisters Ursi had lived in the Black Forest.  There had been many of that breed that had sought aid from them.  Severus had overcome some of his fear of the creatures, while retaining the Old World distaste for the breed in general.  He drew a breath, putting himself in the best frame of mind for a long lecture. 

“Books are sufficient sources of information for school children, Doctor, but much of the information is flawed if not erroneous.  Some werewolves have formed loose associations that they brazenly name Packs, but they are entirely lone hunters.

“Most rely on stealth to achieve their aims and many do not live past the first year of infection.  Those that do, are considered stronger, or in Pack terminology, alpha.  Most attacks on other humans occur from an omega or a beta coming into contact with the subject during its most infectious phase, the first year.  If our werewolf were attacked by a lower-caste wolf, her prognosis is grim.”

“ I had read most of that, Spane,” the doctor snapped, and then added sheepishly, “all but the part about the lower-caste infection.”

Snape masterfully repressed the desire to roll his eyes.  Antonia asked after momentary inner deliberation, “And if she were attacked by an alpha-wolf?”

“ Her prognosis is equally grim, but will most likely not result in her immediate death,” Severus answered.  He ran a finger along the bridge of his nose.  “We never discussed the conditions she experienced while in New Orleans.”

“ Johnson could tell you more.”  Antonia's gaze skittered across Severus'. “I don't know specifics, but most werewolves are kept docile on a potion made from poppies and moonflower.  It's addictive and can be deadly if administered in too strong a dose.  It's called Twilight, because it suspends the taker in a near stupor.”

“ And why does she fear men?”  Severus asked, suspecting the answer and feeling sickened by it.

Antonia stood abruptly.  “I think you can guess, Spane.  Some men like unwilling and docile partners.”

“ In that case, I shall endeavor to gain a modicum of her trust.”  Severus brushed his already immaculate robes, rubbing his palms over the buttons to distract himself from the prospect of spending time with the creature.  His skin crawled anyway.

&*&*&

_ It was Ostara break and Severus had been given the time away from his duties at Hogwarts to aid Lucius in the rescue of yet another unfortunate victim of Lestrange's preferred brand of torture.  Lucius' missive had been insistent that the deed must be accomplished that evening, or not at all.  Severus had cleared his research schedule long enough to make the trip to Malfoy Manor and return the girl to safety.  _

__

_ Severus Apparated into a secure room in the dungeons, one of which he had only just been made aware.  Lucius sat in the gloom, his head bowed over the prone form of a small girl, close to Hogwarts age by her size.  Severus strode forward to take the burden from Lucius, knowing how much the pureblood hated sullying his robes with Muggleborn filth.  A shaft of light caught the whiteness of his profile, throwing the ravaged expression he wore in sharp relief against the gloom.  Things had apparently not gone as planned. The older wizard said simply, “Severus, take this burden from me.” _

__

_ Severus was unsure whether Lucius meant the child or something else.  “Hand her to me.  I will take her to safety.” _

__

_ “ It is too late for that old man.  Much too late.”  Lucius raised his eyes and Severus noted the pain in them amidst the unshed sparkle of tears.  “Greyback was summoned by the Dark Lord, but found a hungry beta to take his place with Lestrange. Rodolphus was laughing at its antics.” _

__

_ Lucius moved the body and Severus masked the revulsion he felt at the wounds on the small throat and face.  The girl was not yet ten.  Lucius continued, his voice a dead-sounding drawl, a tone Severus had only heard after Lucius' initial contact with Greyback and the mock Narcissa,  “She wasn't dead when I was able to retrieve her.” _

__

_ “ And she is now?”  Lucius nodded mutely. Severus sketched his hand above the other man's hair, not touching but somehow consoling him.  “You showed her mercy.” _

__

_ Lucius stumbled to his feet, still clutching the child to him.  He thrust her lifeless body to Severus.  “Take her.  I was only able to get away with this because they thought I was going to further defile her.” _

__

_ Severus took the burden and Lucius ordered his expression and his garments.  Malfoy strode from the room without a backward glance.  Severus Disapparated to dispose of the body where it would never be found, no parent should see the horror that had been inflicted upon the girl. _

&*&*&

Severus was in the kitchen watching Mari prepare the evening meal when Stella came through the Floo.  “Daddy, are you here?”

“ Yes, Stella, in the kitchen.”  Severus answered.  The girl came into the room, her face solemn. 

“ Daddy, I missed you today.  It felt like you were sad this afternoon.”  The girl carefully placed her book satchel against the bar that separated the breakfast nook from the main part of the kitchen.  She slid into the diner-style booth with him and hugged him affectionately.  Severus extended his arm over her shoulder and patted her as she laid her head against his chest.  “You would tell me if you were sad, wouldn't you?”

“ I might, if I thought the emotion might affect you adversely in some manner.”  The girl squirmed into his arms.  “Tonight is a full moon; you will remain inside.”

“ Yes, sir,” Stella answered with a small grin.  “Does that mean you'll play wizard's chess with me tonight?”

“ It does seem that way,” Severus answered.  “But you must finish your assignments first.”

Stella asked suddenly, turning her cool black eyes to his, “Daddy, when I heard you being sad today, you were thinking about Lucius Malfoy.  Who is he?”

“ He is a friend from a former life.” Severus was jolted by the girl's question.  A curling claw of fear twisted in his gut.   “Stella, do not mention him around the others.  His name might raise questions I do not wish to answer.”

“ 'Kay, Daddy,” Stella scooted from the bench.  “I've got tons of homework for the weekend.  I'd better get started.”

Severus bent his head, praying to whatever god might listen, that his world was not going to crash down around his ears.  He did not have the strength to start over again.


	11. Chapter 10

 

Severus was sweltering in the heat of late June.  The summer robes he had bought only last month were already too hot to bear, even with the cooling charms woven into the fabric.  He swiped away a bead of sweat that had progressed down from his hairline to the tip of his hooked nose, before casting an additional cooling charm.  Severus hated that his Dark Mark had not returned to the pallid state it had before Voldemort's resurrection.  The blasted thing would no longer take a glamour, so he was stuck in the humid heat, condemned to a weight of material that concealed his forearm completely, one meant for milder climates. 

He lit the fire under the cauldron, wondering just how long it took Joseph Pony to retrieve the  _ Datura  inoxia _ from the stores maintained meticulously by Brick.  From the girlish shrieks that were issuing in the vicinity of the compound, Severus surmised that his apprentice had been detained by the sight of a certain bikini-clad werewolf who was currently charged with entertaining his daughter during her summer holiday.  The two girls had taken to playing in the irrigation system that the herbologist had redirected for their enjoyment. 

_ Damn and blast the boy _ _._    Severus had tried to discourage the growing attraction Joseph Pony had demonstrated toward Miss DuPre, but hormones and loneliness were hard to fight, especially in a man so young.  Severus had been the one to introduce the two, in an attempt to normalise the werewolf's life after her harrowing months in captivity. Of course, Severus would never admit a fondness for the outspoken girl once his main objective had been met and he had gained her trust.  He was reassured that her infection was from an alpha wolf, and her participation in the research programme was assured for years.  His continued solicitousness to her was merely a means to an end.

Stella had an easy rapport with the girl from the beginning and Joseph Pony was smitten from the start, but Miss DuPre remained coolly aloof to his attentions while responding warmly to the lonely little girl.  Sometimes the simpering giddiness of the two females was so off-putting that Severus removed himself from their society, yet other times he missed being the sole focus of Stella's attentions.  

Severus leaned out of the open window, attempting to see where the boy was and possibly to capture his attention.  His search stuttered to a halt as a new figure entered the fray, splashing water and laughing as giddily as the girls.  Severus' mouth went dry and his pulse increased as he noted the lack of decorous clothing on the figure of Dr. Antonia Dance.  The sun caressed her figure, bringing golden highlights to her peaches-and-cream complexion.  Severus wondered if she would freckle in the harsh sun beating down on her.  If so, he wanted to be able to observe them closely.  A purely academic pursuit, he assured himself, but still he could not deny the tightening of certain articles of clothing.  He was a man, after all, and thus susceptible to visual stimulation.  The doctor's form, while viscerally stimulating with its very womanly dimples, curves and quite becoming jiggles, was just another sight for him to observe almost scientifically, nothing more.

Severus leaned closer to the window to catch more of the raucous action between the three, telling himself he was worried about Stella becoming over-stimulated, when he touched the rim of the unguarded cauldron.

“Dammit!” he cursed, as he popped the burnt surface of the side of his palm in his mouth.  He licked the affected appendage, knowing that his mouth was not the most sanitary method of first aid available, but unwilling to pull his hand away, so that he might look at the blistered surface.  He had not been this inattentive to the potion-brewing process since his first year at Hogwarts.  This was exactly the reason he missed his dungeon labs and the reason he had procured them upon his installation as Professor.  Inattention in potions could be deadly, or at the very least, painful. 

“Do you need Antonia, Uncle 'Rus?”  Joseph Pony asked from the doorway of the lab.  “I can go get her if you do.”

Severus was not immune to the teasing tone of the boy's query.  Severus snapped, “No, I do believe I am capable of smearing unguent on my hand.  I am not as doddering as you think me to be.”

The boy's teeth flashed whitely against the darkness of his face.  

 

“No, Uncle, I definitely don't think you're doddering.”  After a few heartbeats, Joseph Pony muttered, “Frustrated may be the better word.”

“Keep your mind out of the gutter, boy,” the older wizard growled as he turned to the cauldron to adjust the flame.  “Were you able to procure the  _ Datura _ _,_ or was your concern for your  sister so great that the reason for your absence escaped your limited ability to function without constant supervision?”

“Brick didn't know what parts of the plant you needed, so it took him a while to gather everything.”  Joseph Pony plunked a loose collection of packages on the table.  “See?  I am fully functioning.  Are you?”

Severus snorted as he motioned impatiently to the boy to prepare the base for the Wolfsbane as he began sorting through the packets.  “You know what to do.”

Severus hissed as his burn met the parchment holding the plant materials.  Joseph Pony leaned forward, peering at Severus, almost mimicking concern with his stance.  “You sure you don't want me to get the doctor?  She's just outside, and really  _ medical _ looking, even if she is a little bit slippery from the water... and that bikini she's wearing isn't a lab coat, but it could do in a pinch.”

Severus glowered, not deigning to answer. The older wizard returned to the packets before him, sifting through Brick's neatly scripted notes, until he came to the white bloom.  The blossom of the moonflower contained a powerful alkaloid with hallucinogenic properties used in native ceremonies.  In wizards, the effect of the chemical was quite different.  Granted, the roots were stronger, but the blossom's magical properties outweighed the strength of the chemicals. 

Antonia had objected to the flower's inclusion in the newest decoction of Wolfsbane.  Datura poisoning was, in part, the reason for Miss DuPre's mistrust.  The strong doses of Twilight Potion had kept her in a stare of constant flux between human and werewolf, weakening her ability to change fully to either form.  It was a horrible thought to have to live like that, and Severus had lived a life of horrible thoughts.  He shivered, remembering the first time the girl had allowed him in her mind.  Much of what had happened to her had been repressed to the point of annihilation.  She simply had no memories of the horrors inflicted on her body and spirit.  Other events stood out in stark relief against the void of her memories.  Not once during her captivity had the girl received kindness, and there had been little enough before her infection.

Severus snorted.  He had never known he had any Gryffindor tendencies until he met this girl.  Her crystal hardness masked a tender fragility that drew him.  She was at once a street-wise, battle-scarred werewolf, and a young, precocious child.  When he looked at her, he was once again reduced to that child at his parent's knee, damaged, raw and strangely hopeful. 

Joseph Pony broke his reverie.  “Uncle 'Rus, the base is ready.  Do you want me to start the potion?”

Severus turned his attention to the boy's work, and began instructing him on the proper techniques involved in the process.

&*&*&

“Daddy?”  Stella said, around the mouthful of ice cream she masticated.  Severus gave her a warning glare, so she quickly swallowed the portion, and then groaned.  “Ow, now I've got an ice cream headache.”

Joseph Pony snorted, “That's what you get for being such a piglet, squirt.”

“Mr. Red Horse,” Severus said in a warning tone over the top of the front section of wizarding Oklahoman , the statewide equivalent of the  _ Daily Prophet _ .  His day had been a long one, and his hand still hurt from his inattention of the morning.  He just wished for a quiet afternoon without histrionics or bickering.

Miss DuPre placed her wand against Stella's temple, muttering in the Cajun dialect that was her native language.  Once through, she asked the younger girl, “All better, little sister?”

Stella beamed and nodded as she placed her spoon in the bowl of melting Neapolitan ice cream.  American ice cream was too sweet for Severus' taste by far.  The girl began again.  “Daddy, you know how you said I could ask you anything?”

Severus nodded, giving a non-committal grunt as he read an article about the future of exotic, magical creature farming in the States.  Imported Boomslang prices might be dropping if the Department of Agriculture’s Magical Division eased certain restrictions.  Senate hearings so far had been favourable for the importation of certain relatively non-dangerous creatures.  Severus was hopeful about the Boomslang issue.  If the snakes were made more plentiful, many Potions that were truly helpful might be made more affordable to produce and thus to sell.  He said absently, “Yes, my dear.”

“Well, I was wondering when I'm going to get my period.”

Joseph Pony slammed his spoon down into his own bowl of ice cream in disgust.  “Gross, Stella.”

Severus carefully folded the paper he held, buying time.  He levelled a stern look at her.  “My dear, what did I impart to you about the appropriateness of certain questions in mixed company?”

Stella looked chagrined.  “I should think about other's feelings on a subject before I speak...  But, now that I've asked, can you answer my question?”

_ Imp, pure and simple,  _ Severus thought as he ground his teeth in an effort not to reprimand her harshly in front of their guest.  He had made that mistake a month ago, and had been soundly scolded by none other than Mari for his insensitivity.  When Severus had complained about the elf's interference to his immediate supervisor, Dr. Dance, she had agreed with the Brownie and given him a text on parenting.  He felt a definite headache settling at the base of his skull as he finally answered, “I think this conversation would be more appropriate without your cousin or Miss DuPre being privy to it.  Do you not agree?”

“But Char's a girl, and Joseph Pony don't count.”  Stella began swirling her spoon in the chocolate, strawberry and vanilla sludge.  Severus tapped his fingers impatiently on the table, a sure sign of his mood.  “But...”

“That's enough, Stella,” Joseph Pony cut in.  “Can't ya just do one thing Mr. Tuvock asks without arguing?  Uncle 'Rus, talk to her will ya, she's embarrassing.”

Charmaine DuPre's pacific expression never changed as she interjected, “I think it's time I left. J.P., why don't you walk me back to my house?”

She exited the kitchen, her graceful progress followed hungrily by the younger wizard's eyes.   From the entryway she called, “I'm waiting.”

“We will discuss your interference at a later time, Mr. Red Horse.”  Severus' tone was deadly, his eyes snapping darkly as he turned to Stella once more.  “Now, Miss Cadeaux, I suggest we make an appointment to speak with Dr. Dance about your concerns.”

&*&*&

_ Being the youngest Head of House had its drawbacks.  Severus had just encountered one.  A sobbing second-year sat in his office, embarrassed beyond words about an incident that had just occurred in the common room.  He patted her hand, striking it twice sharply before withdrawing his comfort.  He had never been very good with females, especially when they were crying.  He waited until the tears had abated and then enquired, in what he thought was a patient tone, “Now, Miss Watanabe, please explain to me, without the dramatics, what has occurred.” _

__

_ “I... uhm...  started… and didn't know it, sir.”  Tears began leaking from the girl's eye again.  “I made an awful mess in the common room.”  _

__

_ Severus flipped out the square of cotton he kept handy for such events now that he was Head of House and handed it to the girl, unsure why starting a project would cause such a reaction. “I do not understand; would a simple  _ Evanesco _ be sufficient to cleanse the area affected?”  _

__

_ The girl rolled her eyes, blushing at the same time. “I did that, sir, but not before several of the older boys saw.  They laughed.” _

__

_ She burst into fresh sobs, blowing her nose into the handkerchief.  Another casualty of the teenage trenches.  Severus was growing impatient.  He had essays to mark and a lesson plan to review.   He barked irritably, “What project were you working on that would cause such derision?  Please, do not tell me you were acting the Hufflepuff imbecile and making a love potion for one of the gentlemen in question.  Detention, Miss Watanabe, for your sheer stupidity, will commence tomorrow under the auspices of Mr. Filch, if that is the case.” _

__

_ “It wasn't a project... sir... I STARTED.  It was my first time and I didn't expect it.”  With a sinking feeling, Severus realised the subject of the conversation.  Severus shifted uncomfortably.    _

__

_ “I shall deal with the gentlemen involved in your plight; meanwhile, please remove yourself to the hospital wing.  Madam Pomfrey should be able to answer any questions you might have and help you with the...  accessories you might need.”  Severus could feel a cold bead of sweat trickle down his back.  He had coolly faced the Dark Lord as a spy, participated in crimes beyond imagining, and had been  Cruciated too many times to count,  but one girl and her menarche had him perspiring. _

__

_ Why had Albus thought him equipped for the job as Head of House? _

__

&*&*&

Severus approached Antonia's cottage that evening, surprised at the loud rock music that boomed from the open windows.  He knocked hesitantly ,  looking through the small panes of the door into her house.  She was waving her wand and dancing to the heavy beat of the band to which she listened.  He knocked louder, after a moment, using wand work to amplify the sound.  It echoed in his head, strangely reminiscent of something beyond his memory that he had heard during his Death Eater days. 

_ He was before the Dark Lord.  It was the day of his resurrection, and Severus was late to the soiree. _

__

_ “Please, My Lord, punish me, certainly, but let me explain my tardiness to your summons.”  Severus hated the whinging tone of his voice.  He hated that he had to abase himself before the Monster and then show Albus once his ordeal was over.   He was getting too old for this game. _

__

_ Severus writhed in the dirt of the cemetery, his mouth filled with the muck stirred up by Tom's cauldron and Pettigrew's blood.  He had not heard the curse, but certainly felt it.  His bones ached and his nerve endings boiled while it lasted...  _

“Russell?” her voice said; Bellatrix was concerned, not mocking.  Severus was indeed in danger.  He flung his arms out, making contact with the bitch's flesh.  She had always hated him.  That was why she could not get his name right.   He felt her scrabble back to him , her dirty fingers on his flesh, her claws drawing him to her soft breasts.  Severus could do no more than convulse in her arms...

_ The curse ended only to be replaced by another and then another, each administered by a different hand.  He lay in the mire long after his brethren had vacated the premises.  When he was able, he found his wand, clutching it spasmodically.  His only lifeline.  _

__

_ He vomited once, tasting blood and bile... _

...and the ice cream he had sneaked that afternoon.  Bellatrix was screaming for help.  What had he done to her?  He was no idiot to mar the perfectly mad features of the Dark Lord's favourite whore.  He convulsed once more, away from hands that were moving him into the dark cave of the Riddle House.  Now the torture would truly begin.

_ “Ssseverusss, tell me of your ssservice to the Old Fool,” the Dark Lord commanded.  Severus didn't know how, but he was still Occluding his mind.  It had been so many years since... _

“Lily died,” he moaned into Bellatrix's surprisingly smooth belly.  Why was the Dark Lord's whore naked for him? 

“Get my medical bag.  It's in my bedroom in the closet,” she ordered, her voice less harsh than he remembered.  Maybe prison had softened her nature.  He could not remember her getting out.  Surely complete incompetents did not run the Ministry.  

_ After several hours of agony, Severus had Apparated to the boundaries of Hogwarts; he did not know how.  Maybe Albus had made a Portkey for him and he was unaware of it.  No... Tom would have known if his spy carried that... Severus felt movement, and then he was within the Castle, and was being transported through little-used corridors to the hospital wing.  “Poppy, you know what...” _

“...to do.  Calming Draught, then Draught of Peace.  My own in your stores... Treble strength.  Made them when Potter said He returned.  Blasted boy, couldn't follow simple instructions.” 

But he knew it was no more Potter's fault than his that the Dark Lord had returned.  It was Albus' fault for letting Potter stay in the contest.  Now, The-Boy-Who-Lived would lead Severus to his painful death.  He tasted blood again and spat.  His entire body contracted with an agonising paroxysm, after-effects of the curses...

_...that had been dealt him by the Monster's own hand.  Pomfrey, his constant friend in these past years, knew of his dangerous game.  Albus had needed her to patch his spy when he was broken and had inducted her in the Order.  Just for you, Severus; he chuckled darkly at the thought.  One more body to lie at his feet if she were discovered.  He had never felt such anger toward the old man as now.  Where had it come from?  Severus was the one who had betrayed his only love.  Severus was responsible for the horrors to come.  Severus would kill him in the future.  He knew that with a certainty that bordered on prescience.   “I'm...” _

“...sorry.”  He vomited on Bella-turned-Poppy's belly.  She smelled different through the acidic miasma, more womanly and less Old Ladyish.

“Turn him over; I have to give him an anti-emetic.”  Severus heard a slap of plastic against flesh, and then felt the pain of a needle in his arm.  

“Fuck, Poppy, when did you turn into a Muggle?”  His head swam, but the nausea abated. 

Another needle and Poppy-who-used-to-be-Bella, muttered, “...Haldol for the psychotic break.  Don't worry, Joseph Pony.  He'll be out for a while...  I'll keep him here for the night.”

The world went black.   


	12. Chapter 11

“...get him in the house.  Brick you get his legs, Joseph Pony and I will get his...” 

_.. . arms were leaden.  Albus had been the one to find him this time.  Severus thanked the gods it had not been one of the students.  Which time was this?  There were so many as Tom became more despotic and vicious.  Albus cried over his condition, the sound strangely youthful.  The old man would send Severus out repeatedly, but he still cried when the Potions Master returned broken and sobbing.  Perhaps the Headmaster was not too... _

“... bad before?  You told me about his dreams already, but has he ever had an episode like this?”

“Once he had one when I was playing  Dragula , you know, Rob Zombie?  That wasn't too bad.  He just said some weird stuff and then went to sleep.  Then there was the time after Nana told him she was gonna die.  But he wasn't puking.  He did bite his tongue then...  I think he really loved her.   Nana, I mean, He took it hard.  Kept calling her...”

_ “Albus, leave me,” Severus said between lips too stiff to speak clearly.  “I told you I would do what was needed when the time came; must you belabour the point?” _

__

_ “My boy, it's not everyday that one is asked to execute a friend.  I was just wondering how you were doing.”  Albus sounded old.  The Potions Master sensed the Headmaster's question was motivated less by concern than by needing the younger wizard's forgiveness.  Severus remained stonily silent in the face of the headmaster's emotional indigence.  After a moment, Severus heard the door close to his dungeon lab.  Severus buried his head in his hands and gave in to the desire to howl the anguish that he had felt since he had taken the Unbreakable Vow.  There would be no mercy for Severus Snape in any quarter. _

__

“...don't think he'll like you taking off his clothes, just clean them with your wand.  That's what Nana did both times.”

“Joseph Pony, I don't dare use any magic on him right now.   He's already unstable.  I don't know if it's the  _ Datura _ he was exposed to or a real break from reality.  His vitals, right now, are reading like he's been...  _ Cruciated .” _

“But...”

“I need to clean him up. Leave, if it bothers you so much.  Go.  Stella needs you.”  A soft rustle of fabric and laboured breathing, and then Severus was exposed.  His secret was no longer safe.

_ “There's nothing for it now.  Do it... _

... Severus, please .”  _ A lifetime of the Potions Master's anger went behind the curse.  His hatred of neglectful and abusive parents... bullying Marauders... James Potter's son... Albus' machinations... Tom Riddle....  Lily...  himself...  Himself... HIMSELF... _

__

_ A green flash erupted from his wand and the only person who had ever cared for him, even if the affection came well after the caring would have helped, lay like a discarded parchment at the base of the tower.  _

_ Dead.  _

Severus was on his last bridge, and it was burning.

&*&*&

__

_ “Severus? Severus. Severus... Your father's gone for now, come out.”  His mother's plaintive tone warned the teen of what he would see.  Dammit, he was supposed to meet Lily today.  He should have left before his parents' latest brawl, but that would have meant sleeping in the garden shed all night.  The row had been bad by the sound of it. “I need your help.” _

__

_ Severus levered himself off his bed.  It was really more of a cot with an ancient cotton-stuffed mattress and distinctive blue and white ticking, the once white linens grey with age and indifferent housekeeping.  What he would have done to be able to spend the summer with Lucius, as the former Slytherin Prefect had suggested.  Even if Narcissa Black would be there, it would be worth all his scrounged Galleons, Knuts, pound notes and pences to be away from here.   However, he would not have been able to devote his time to Lily and their plots against the Marauders had he done so.  Well, Severus' plots, anyway.  Lily understood he needed to protect himself, so she had helped him memorise new spells.  She did not condone overt plans of attack.  He supposed she never would understand that if Severus did not strike first, the four bastards would just think him weak and redouble their efforts to humiliate him.  He certainly could not count on most Slytherins to back him, except maybe Avery and Mulciber.  They did not want to dirty themselves with the poor son of a laid-off mill worker, a suspected half-blood to boot.  Rumours did tend to get around the Slytherin common room, even with Lucius' less than benevolent patronage. _

__

_ His mother was scratching on his door, dragging her nails down the bare wood.  Tobias had never gotten around to painting it after he had to replace the original heavily scarred one.  He had broken that one during a fit of anger at Severus by throwing the then twelve-year-old into it bodily.  Severus still had the scar where his back had been sliced open by a large splinter of wood. There would be no Healers that might alert the authorities for his injuries.  He had suffered through the infection the wound caused until his mother could scrounge enough cash for the potions ingredients to heal it. “Severus, my love, come out.   I need your help.” _

__

_ Oh, shite,  she  had  been drinking too.  That must be what they fought about.  Some of his parents' worst rows occurred when both of them were pissed.   Alcohol did not improve either of their already erratic tempers.  He leaned against the door, debating whether he should open it, or whether he should barricade it and sneak out the window.  He could wait for Lily in their hideout.  Her next words firmed Severus' decision.  “Gerrout here now, you useless slug, before I give you the beating of your life...” _

__

_ The sound of her vomiting outside his door made Severus renew his vow never to partake of anything stronger than Butterbeer.  The thought became a mantra as he scooted the ancient wardrobe across the door, and grabbed his satchel of schoolbooks. He hastily stuffed some clothes into the pack and climbed out the window.  It looked like he would be sleeping in the rough for a bit. _

&*&*&

It was strange to see the three coyotes, fully transformed, occupying the seats in his dungeon sitting room.  How had they come to Hogwarts? 

The two males bristled at the unfamiliar smells of the human den, and so Kaya spoke, toying with the little spider pendant on her charm bracelet as she did so.  “Severus Tobias Snape, we’ve been waiting at least three full moons to speak with you.”

“Why so long?”  Severus asked, surprised at the affability of his tone.  Were these creatures not the same as Greyback, Lupin or Miss DuPre?   But, no, they were all dressed in red, cowboy-style shirts and crisp denim jeans.  They had not suffered the depredations of the were-variety to which Severus was more familiar.   Coyote was nicer to his messengers than Wolf was.  Severus knew this without being told. 

Kaya batted her lashes, a peculiarly female thing to do.  “We had to wait until you were ready.  Everything came together today.  Now, listen.”

She waited regally for Severus to nod his head.  He felt a little shaky doing so, but nodded anyway.  Severus suspected Coyote was the equivalent of Salazar Slytherin in this new world, and so deserved a respectful answer.   “Yes, Madam, I await the words you wish to impart.”

She blinked twice slowly, her eyes glowing yellow-orange, the colour of the new moon in autumn.  “Listen well, for I will only tell you this once.  Your crimes have been forgiven.  Brother Trickster says the blood you spilled while in service to the Monster is atoned.  Do not mourn those lives you took in battle or because you were instructed to do so.  Your days as the Trickster's agent are over, and you have done well.  It is time to embrace this new life Coyote has offered you.”

Severus felt his facial muscles tighten, stretching across his aching bones.  “Albus sent you, didn't he?”

“No white man sent us.  No dark man either,” one of the males growled.  “Did you listen?  Did you hear our sister?  Or will you need help like most of your kind does?”

The other male laughed, the sound derisive and cold.  “Yeah, do him like they did Yellow Hair* at Little Big Horn.  He heard plenty once they pierced his eardrums.” 

Kaya stilled the two with a look of her moon-bright eyes.  “We will not arrange for further messages for you.  Do you wish to tell anyone in the West anything?”

Severus paused, knowing it was his one chance to spew his vitriol at Albus, and leave his love with Lily.  Kaya stilled his mouth with a wave of her hand.  “Think well what you want to say.  Do not give your love to ones who never saw it was good enough, and do not berate your leader.  He needed you as you were.”

“Tell my mother... No.  Tell the Old Woman that my charges are doing well, and I have become quite... fond of them.” Severus turned from the Trickster's messengers with their knowing eyes and pointed mouths.  He needed rest.

&*&*&

Severus opened his eyes to slits, painfully blinded by the yellow-white light of the glaring mid-morning sun.  He was  _ au naturale  _ under the sheet that was draped around his waist.  His hair and body had been cleaned of the vomit, and his Dark Mark lay exposed on his sparsely haired arm.  He was, as some of his less well-bred Slytherins would have once said, sincerely and seriously fucked. 

Too bad, he had no strength to flee.  He suspected the Magical division of the INS** would be here shortly, and possibly the MFBI***.  He was wanted for crimes as a Death Eater, maybe.  He heard stirring in the kitchen.  Severus surmised they were here all ready.  The wizard hunted for his wand but it had already been confiscated.   At least his luck was constant. 

He began sweating, a cold one that drenched him immediately.  The only time he had ever been truly frightened in his life was when he had spent those few weeks in Azkaban, awaiting his trial.   He could not go there, or to the American equivalent of it.  He had read that Shacklebolt had gotten rid of the Dementors, and the Americans were considering it, but was sure it was not the dark creatures that gave him problems.  Forever, since his confinement in his room for punishment as a child, he had hated to be enclosed.  The hatred of restriction was not claustrophobia,  _ per se _ .    It was more that he needed room for his long limbs to move in ground-eating strides.  Severus was restless.   He always had been. 

The door to the room opened, and an urge to vomit followed its motion.  The doctor stuck her head in the room.  In a carefully neutral tone she asked, “Are you decent?”

Severus pulled the sheet up to his chin, making sure his left arm was covered.  He attempted to give voice to his reply and was surprised hear no sound from his voice.  He was certain no magical means had been used to effect this state, so thought he might have screamed his voice out. Antonia levitated the tray while she assisted him to sit. She then floated the tray on his lap, which was populated by broth and weak tea.  She sat, looking at him, completely unreadable.  Trust the good doctor to be a competent Occlumens. 

“Eat,” she said as she pulled vials of Potions out of her pockets and set them on the bedside table.  “We'll save the talk for after.”

Severus motioned for his wand.  “No, sorry, I'm holding that until I find out what happened.”

He took a tentative sip of the broth, spilling most of the spoonful he brought to his lips in the process.  He was right-handed, but strangely unbalanced by not being able to use his left.  The doctor barked, “Oh, for heaven's sake, I've seen the damned  Mark on your arm, just get over it already.”

Severus ate his broth and sipped his tea, sinking into the feeling, once again, of being hated.  Either he had become unused to the scorn heaped on him in the last years of his service to the Light, or he had become attached, in some way, to the woman who glared coldly at him.  His heart beat sluggishly and painfully as he began thinking of the arid years, he would spend, once again, thinking of what could have been.  He let his spoon drop to the broth, as he pushed it away.  He could eat no more. 

She stood, moving the tray from his lap, economical in her movements, a trait Severus had always admired and had worked so hard to possess.  He cleared his throat and rasped, “When will the authorities come to arrest me?”

“I suppose when you break the law.  You weren't planning on stealing company secrets, were you?” the doctor answered tartly as she settled the tray outside the room and took her seat.  “Now, don't strain your voice.  I'll give you some parchment and a quill in a minute.”

She sifted through the potions on the table, retrieving one as she readied her wand.  “Drink this and be still.”

“I am not Stella, doctor.”  Severus grimaced as he spoke.  His throat was becoming painful.

“No, you're worse,” she muttered.  “Drink.  It's just a simple diagnostic potion.”

Severus wanted to grace her with his most baleful, Potions Professor glare and a thrown vial, but settled for mild irritation and compliance.   He tapped his fingers on the sheet as she began running her wand over his body.  She stilled his hand with hers.  “What part of _'_ _ be still _ _'_ don't you understand?  The _be_ , or the _still_?”

Severus rolled his eyes, the avenue left to him to express his disgust and impatience.  He wished she would just quit spinning out the suspense.  He was intelligent enough to gather that he might not have spoken clearly enough to be arrested.  His identity might still be uncompromised.  He could only hope that bearing the stain of his servitude in this country did not carry the same penalty as in Great Britain.  His leg began itching and he flicked the muscles to attempt to alleviate the problem.  Antonia stopped once more, placing her hands on her hips.  “If you don’t stop wiggling like a recalcitrant six year-old, I  _ will _ place you in a full body bind.”

Several very satisfactory and scathing retorts came to mind, but Severus was again constrained by his physical limitations.  He wondered idly if Healers and mediwitches had to take a course in offensive behaviour; or if being in the medical profession was only taken up by a certain managing personality type.   If the latter were the case, Miss Granger would probably be running St. Mungo's in a few years.   “Okay, all done, wiggle away.”

Severus raised his brow, wishing to convey that he was well past the age of  wiggling  and had been for some time now.

The doctor settled her wand in one pocket then reached for the promised quill and parchment.  “I charmed it so you can reuse it without needing to refill it.  Drink this potion for the pain.”

She thrust a blue bottle under his nose and tapped her foot impatiently against the wood floor.    Severus, against his finely honed sense of self-preservation, snatched the phial from her hand, gulped it down and threw it petulantly against the wall.  It made a soft thud, bringing to mind Lucius' thrown bottle when he had discovered the madness brewing inside Severus.  He gasped for air, his frame wracked by tremors, and the doctor was suddenly holding him tightly.  As his shaking calmed, she released him.  “Clearly, you aren't ready for our little talk.  Rest a while.”

&*&*&

He woke again well after the sun had reached its zenith.  His mouth tasted as if it had been used as a litter box for a colony of Kneazles and his head pounded.  The doctor sat reading in a chair she had installed in the room.  She wore glasses, a thing he had not known before. He suspected she normally wore contacts, or spelled her eyes with a mild  _ Occularis perfecta _ charm.  He found her horn-rimmed oddities fascinating.  She glanced up, holding her place in the book with an index finger.  “Are you ready for our talk?”

Yes.  He was.  He attempted the words, but only managed the accompanying nod.  She shoved the discarded parchment and quill in his hand before she stated mildly, “So, you're the famous Severus Snape.”

Severus was certain he could hear the laughing yips of the coyotes corralled safely in their dens.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

*“...Yellow Hair at Little Big Horn...”  This refers to George Armstrong Custer, a Lieutenant Colonel during the Indian wars conducted in the American West in the latter part of the nineteenth century.  Custer was known for his victories over the native peoples, really a series massacres committed on Native populations, usually conducted at dawn, while the villages were still asleep. On June 25 th and 26 th of 1876, Custer underestimated his 'enemy' in the final campaign of a brutal war that was fought over gold found in the Black Hills.   He had cornered the Northern Cheyenne, which had been joined by Lakota and Arapaho tribes, led by Sitting Bull and Crazy Horse, at the Little Big Horn River in Montana.  Custer split his troops into three groups, possibly attempting a hammer and anvil or pincer attack, by trying to flank the tribes then ripping through the middle of their formation.   What occurred is speculated upon, but Custer and two hundred sixty eight men under his command were killed.  This marked the last victory for both Sitting Bull and Crazy Horse.

In  Son of the Morning Star , by Evan S. Connell, it is portrayed that Sitting Bull pierced Custer’s eardrums after his death, so that he might hear better in the afterlife. 

For more information on the battle, consult Wikipedia under the Battle of Little Big Horn.  For Custer's battle tactics, refer to the Battle of the Washita on the same site.

** MINS:  Magical Immigration and Naturalization Service.  I do realise the real Immigration service acronym has been changed to ICE, but MICE is just a bit too cute.

***MFBI:  Magical Federal Bureau of Investigation, a division of the FBI.


	13. Chapter 12

“You disgust me,” Albus had said, and the sentiment was echoed in the eyes of the woman looking at him, lids heavy with lack of sleep, mouth drawn in a scowl reminiscent of one of his own.

 Nothing changed in the room after her pronouncement, but Severus' vision shifted as if he were back in the shack on the edge of Hogsmeade, bleeding his life out on the filthy floor.   He felt cool hands on his neck before he saw them, felt the pressure of yet another vial on his lips before he tasted the Calming Draught contained in it.  He heard her concern before it registered in his split brain.  “Russe..  Mr.... Snape, come on, breathe.”

 She knuckled him in his sternum, and then he was whole and raging.  He screamed in the incoherent way he had at Potter on two notable times, spittle flying, nerves stretched beyond taut to breaking.  Instead of backing away like a mad-woman, she eased forward, holding him in her arms.  She rocked him, whispering soft things in his fear-deafened ears.  He raged on, a broken animal howling its pain, snapping at the hand that would help it.  He felt his fingers, long and gracile, dig into the soft flesh of her arms and could do nothing but let them sink further.  He knew there would be bruises and prayed they would not count against him when he was arrested in this new country.

 He was so tired of being the goat.

 Slowly, the Draught took effect and he could focus on her words.  “...not in danger.  The war is over.”

 But Severus knew it never would be for him.  He had so much for which to atone.  He dragged his fingers from her flesh and to his over-ripe hair, long overdue for a wash.  “I do wish to apologise, Doctor.”

 “For...?”

 “My deception.”  Severus would have moved out of the bed, save he had not entirely lost his reason.  He was still in the altogether, and would not inflict his inadequate physique to her further scrutiny.   “Please, my clothes, I would like to tell the children that I will be leaving them.  They are Lakota from the Rosebud Reservation. You will contact their tribe when I am gone, to ensure their proper care and...”

 Severus was shamed by the break in his voice as he thought of leaving his Stella to the indifferent care of strangers and the interruption of Joseph Pony's promising career.  The doctor's quizzical gaze brought him back to the matter at hand.  “I do assume, after these revelations, that I am sacked?”

 Antonia smoothed her hands from his elbows to his wrists, eliciting a shiver from Severus that had nothing to do with the ambient temperature of the air-conditioned room.  He had endured more of her caresses in the last day than he had received in his lifetime at the hands of his indifferent mother or even Lily.  She sighed.  “No.  You're not fired.  I may have to fire Russell Spane, but if Severus Snape wants the job.... the company doesn't need to know you're one and the same person.  I assume you're here illegally, so... we'll think of some way to get your immigration status cleared up.”

 Severus was wary immediately.  No one did anything for him without a steep price tag attached.  He could not keep the tone of wary hope out of his question as he asked, “You'll do this for me.  Why?”

 The doctor rubbed her thumb over the back of his hand.  “There are several reasons.  Not the least of which is your considerable knowledge and talent.  Frankly, we need your skills on this project, and your work is internationally recognised.”

 Severus had an irrational desire to kiss her for her truthfulness.  It sneaked up on him while she made the maddening contact with his hand.  He closed his eyes against the image, which only made the desire worse as he pictured her under him, her soft, full lips against his thin, hard ones, her exhalations of desire against his mouth.  He opened his eyes.  “And if I do not wish to stay, will you turn me in to your authorities?”

 She had the temerity to laugh at him, and rage swept Severus once again.  He trembled with the intensity of it.  “I'm not offering you a deal.  You can stay or go.    We'll miss your skill, but the project will get along without you.”

 “And the children, will you turn them out?”

 “Mr. Snape, Sev... Oh hell, I don't know what to call you.”  The doctor stood abruptly, and suddenly Severus was aware of the strain she was under by the taut line of her shoulders and the heaviness of her gait. “Stay, or don't, but don't abandon those children of yours. They need you more than you care to admit.”

 She left, taking the warmth with her.

 

 

&*&*&

 

_After Lily, there had been only one other woman who had drawn his interest, no matter how unworthy he was to have her favours  He could not say he loved Charity Burbage, that sentiment was locked safely away in Lily's grave.  His heart had died with her that night.  But the Muggle Studies teacher had been pleasant company with no ties to his former life at Hogwarts or as a Death Eater. She had been hired directly out of university from the Canadian University of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  She was Muggle-born and unprepossessing. Her company was pleasant and her body welcoming.  Their association had been brief, by necessity.  Albus needed his undivided attention once the Dark Lord had, indeed, resurrected himself.  So, Charity was the sacrifice that Severus had to make.  He did miss her at times._

_Nevertheless, it came as some shock to hear, during a meeting with a newly-freed Lucius, that she was to be killed.  There were no tears left in him to spare for her, merely a sad recognition that, once again, Severus was responsible for a friend's death.  He could have told her to leave the country after her ill-conceived letter to the Daily Prophet.  He could have protected her by giving her his name during their brief dalliance, for all that would have been worth, but he had been constrained from acting.  He wondered idly if Albus had calculated her death, and deemed it a necessary sacrifice.  Sometimes he hated the old man more than he had ever loved Lily._

_Lucius looked at his old friend strangely once he delivered the news, but said nothing more on the subject.  The comrades in conspiracy continued their talk as if there were no incipient ghosts present, no ravening spirits that would forever howl for Severus' guilty blood._

_When he returned to Hogwarts, not even a month later, Severus was the one to clean out Charity's belongings.  He would allow no other to enter her room.  It was his penance to see to the tatty articles left by the warm woman who briefly endured his cold company._

_It was when he found her letter to him that he broke down in tears that were unbidden and sudden, like an early winter squall.  The note had been hidden in the secret space she had shown him while they slept together, he knew the charms to unlock the area, and he did so. There could be no incriminating documents to compromise this spy's identity._

_In the letter, she told him she loved him,and even though he would never feel the same way about her, she hoped he could find his happiness with some other witch.   She wished him well._

_He had never told her his heart had died nearly twenty years before and by his own hand.  He had not wanted to see the horror of his acts reflected in her kind eyes._

_Severus made a great show to the staff of incinerating her belongings, along with the letter, slipped from his pocket in the last moment.  From the swirling ashes in the dead fire, his hope died.  He would never make it through the war.  He did not want to.  He had turned from the fire, cleansed of hope.  He would do what he must and seek his final reward.  That was the end he deserved and the end he sought._

&*&*&

 

Hours later, Antonia returned bearing another tray with more broth.  Severus grunted; he would let her assume the meaning of the sound.  She watched as he tucked in, and he ignored her interest, studiously gulping the broth and eating the dry toast, his straying eyes on the patch of peeling paint he had discovered in his hours of liberty.  Once done, he sipped the tea, uncomfortably aware that the sheet had slipped during his gustative sojourn.  She moved toward him, tucking the sheet firmly under his arms.  The action caused him to pause.  “How much did I say, while I was... out?”

 “Not as much as you might think.”  She sat primly on the edge of the bed, knees together, arms folded across her chest.  “Joseph Pony told me most of it.  His grandmother gave him the information that she gleaned from various publications.”

 “So, she gave me a name after all...”  Severus muttered, feeling betrayed by the Old Woman.  “I suppose I have completely lost the boy's respect.”

 “What?  Mr.... What should I call you?'  Antonia asked in apparent frustration.

 Severus considered her request before answering, “I have become accustomed to 'Rus. I suppose that might be the most appropriate moniker.”

 She snorted.  “Do you want me to add Uncle to that?”

 Severus' mind flooded with scenarios in which it might be quite pleasant for the doctor to call him Uncle.  He held his face still,  the erotic content of his thoughts were his own, even if they did disturbingly star the doctor.  Once he had his emotions and other aspects of his person under firm control, he answered silkily, “No, 'Rus will be sufficient.”

“Okay, Rus.”  She stressed his name.  “Before we continue your treatments, I need to know what you did this morning.  I detected moderate amounts of Datura in your system, apparently introduced via the burn on your hand.  You really should have taken care of that before you handled the plant material.”

“Thank you, doctor for your unnecessary chastisement.”  Severus narrowed his eyes.  “I was unduly distracted, and the fault was entirely mine.  Do, please, continue.”

Antonia inclined her head, her lips tightening in suppressed irritation. “The other findings are more worrisome, however.  How many times were you Cruciated during the war, Rus?”

Severus regarded her with some disdain.  “Are you merely curious, or is there a reason for the question?”  

“Can't you give an answer without challenging me?”  Antonia's scowl increased.  “I'm waiting. Once? Twice? How many times?”

“At least three times.”  Severus let the doctor relax, before adding, “A week for two years after the Dark Lord's return.  In the early days of my service, I'm sure it was more often.  It was the Dark Lord's favourite form of discipline.  I think he relished the sexual overtones of it.  He loved power, and since I was not one to grovel...” 

Antonia had the grace to look ill.  She began toying with the sheet, pleating it between her fingers and letting it go back to its flat shape before re-pleating it.  When she gained some control, she said, “You have severe damage to your nerves.  It showed up in the last scans I did.” 

“Hmm,” Severus hummed.  He knew too well the damage that had been wrought.  Poppy had warned him just before Dumbledore's murder that his nervous system was deteriorating and that he was headed for a cell in St. Mungo's if he did not stop his spying.  Severus' contribution had been too vital to desist, so he endured.  “I was never supposed to survive.”

The doctor considered him for a moment.  She answered his self-pitying response with some feigned dispassion, “Well, you did.”

They both returned to silence. Severus contemplated the spot on the wall that had drawn his interest before.  It looked like the profile of a Hippogriff on first notice, but took on the aspect of a Thestral the more he looked. 

“You're lucky, you know,” she finally said to the silence. 

Severus quirked his eyebrow, a look that would have drawn the ire of Minerva McGonagall, but provoked no more than a smirk from the doctor.  “How so?” he retorted.  “That I survived when I never wanted to, or that I landed in your care, a person singularly disposed to provoke my irritation at every turn?”

“That I dealt with the effects of this particular torture in Rwanda,” Antonia continued easily.  “Voldemort could have learned a good deal from the Hutu.”

Severus noted the haunted look in her eyes and felt unaccountably ashamed for his petulance.  He turned from her, exposing his hip, before he realised the scar it carried from the Hippogriff's protective zeal was exposed.  She ran her finger along it.  “Or maybe not...”

 

&*&*&

 

_Charity approached him during the Yule celebration of Potter's famed fourth year.   Severus was on edge due to the proximity of Karkaroff, the Headmaster of Durmstrang, and fellow inductee into the Order of Stupid Bastards.  She stood next to him in the line of chaperons.  Severus had paid little attention to her before, but even he had to admit she looked particularly fetching in her gown.  He slanted her a dark smile and her eyes kindled.  Once the ball was over, and all the students but a few were safely bundled into bed, she had offered Severus a nightcap._

_She was a tiny thing, he noted as he tucked her hand in his elbow.  If he held her, her head would fit neatly under his chin.  He wondered if her body would fit him as smoothly.  He found out that night as he sank into her.  Her sweet sighs were balm to his ego.  Years of greasy githood fell away as he drew responses from her and she from him.   He awoke with a start the next day.  It was strange waking with a woman wrapped around him, cozy, but odd.  It was if she was offering him expiation for his sins, real and imagined.  He held her stiffly until she woke, a soft smile on her lips, desire in her eyes.  Severus took her again._

_Things went well between them until the third event of the ill-fated Tri-Wizard Tournament.  It was then that Albus called Severus to his office and told the younger wizard that he must lose all extraneous influences.  The time had come for him to regain his focus._

_Severus objected, but the words Albus had spoken so many years before echoed in his mind._

“You disgust me,” _Albus had said._

_And Severus had braved Charity's tears for the greater good.  His penance would continue until Albus saw fit to end it._

 

&*&*&

 

“You have questions, Doctor, about my true role in the war.”  Severus began to break the contact of her hand to his buttocks. 

“I was in England at the time,” she answered, her tone carefully neutral.

Severus shifted his frame, aware that the sheet covered less of him than he would have liked, but seeking to see her face in the clear light of early evening.  “You have questions.  I will give you this one chance to ask them, no matter how impertinent they may be.  I may not give full answers to protect certain people, please respect that, but I will attempt to answer all your questions.”

“Look, 'Rus, this isn't some interrogation.  I've learned all I need to know about you.”  Antonia stood and began fussing with the tray on the bed.  “If you want to tell me something, do it.”

Severus leaned forward, his voice a low, menacing rumble, “So, you think me a tamed Death Eater, or an honorable man.  Do not believe everything you read, Doctor.  I have raped and killed and at one time revelled in depravities that would make your African tribesmen look like children playing Exploding Snap.  I am neither nice nor particularly noble.  Do not mistake me for the weakling they wrote of in the papers.  I am not he.”

The doctor moved toward him, her hands seeking his face and drawing his nightshade eyes to hers.  With her lips scant millimetres from his, she smiled.  “You know, animals that are frightened will make themselves appear bigger to scare off an attacker.  I am not attacking you, Severus Snape, so what is truly frightening you?  Are you afraid that your life's work was to be a bad-ass, and now that the war is over, you no longer have a purpose?”

Severus flung her hands away from him, shouting hoarsely, “GET OUT!”

Antonia lifted the tray from the bed, the picture of calm possession.  “You really are a frightened little man.  I'll be back with your first round of meds in a few minutes.  Your clothes are being repaired, but Joseph Pony brought you boxers and a t-shirt to sleep in.”

She left the room once again, the evening light slanting onto her hair, burnishing it in shades of copper and gold.  She did not look back as she added, “The kids want to see you, so get dressed.”

 

&*&*&

 

“'Daddy, are you okay?”  Stella asked as she poked her head through the door to Severus' erstwhile cell. 

Severus put aside his book, letting the feeling of well-being wash over him at the sight of his daughter's rattily-braided hair and mismatched clothes.  “Come in, my dear.”

Stella rushed forward, crushing him with a frantic hug.  Joseph Pony stood at the door, his customary smirk a little more tentative than normal.  “How ya doin'?”

“Better, Joseph Pony,” Severus nodded.  The boy moved to the other side of his bed.  The boy's arm snaked around his shoulders and he bent, giving Severus a fleeting hug, before he sat on the bed.

“You scared us.”  The boy looked away, an expression of his fragility.  “Now will you go to the Medicine-Keeper, like I asked you to?”

“Yes.”  Severus' compliance shocked the boy to silence.  Stella moved closer to Severus and burrowed under his chin.  “Stella, your hair is tickling my nose, please.”

She smoothed her hair down with a spit-slicked hand.  “I'm not leavin' you.”

“Nor am I leaving you, Stella, nor am I,” Severus whispered into her ear.  Maybe the Old Woman had been right to saddle him with the imp and the misanthrope.  His life might have a purpose after the war. 


	14. Chapter 13

Severus looked at the handful of pills the doctor had prescribed a week ago, the ones he took religiously to ease the symptoms of his distress. He did not like to be dependent on them. Maybe it was the idea of putting chemicals in his body developed by Muggles for Muggle consumption, maybe it was the real fear he had of turning into the chemically-addled bastard his father had been, but Severus detested the actual taking of the medications. He flipped them lightly in his hand. Three little pills; the yellow one for his supposed depression, the small white one to repress his psychotic breaks, and the green one for anxiety; they were all colours in his own toxic little rainbow. Severus grimaced as he noted the hard expression on Joseph Pony's face. The boy looked pointedly at Severus' hand as he slid into the seat across from him at the kitchen table. “You're gonna take those, aren't you?”

Severus dutifully placed the pills on his tongue. The children had been quite alarmed at his last episode. He truly did want to prevent any more outbursts. He took a swallow of cold coffee, grimacing at the taste, and then opened his mouth to let the boy see he had indeed swallowed. If only Severus had not been caught palming the pills a few days earlier. Joseph Pony nodded, “Sorry, Uncle 'Rus, but you know Antonia wants me to make sure you take 'em.”

_The doctor._ The most irritating specimen of womanhood yet to grace the planet. He was still stung by her 'scared little man' comment, and had yet to forgive her for comparing him to an animal. She dared judge him; the man who dedicated nearly twenty years of his life to defeating the most evil Dark Wizard to defile the planet since the Emperor Caligula. Well, sod her...

“Uncle 'Rus, I wish you would just talk to her,” Joseph Pony began. “She's tried talking to you over and over. What did she do that was so bad that you won't accept her apology?”

Severus made no reply as he envisioned the apology he might accept for her slights; the woman on her knees before him... No, that image was definitely not the one he was going for. He wanted abject and tearful apologies, not erotica. Well, at least not at the moment... He pictured her in her lab coat with her hands fluttering like birds around her heart, tears in her eyes, the words spilling from her mouth... her lips in the little pout that he so longed to...

“Dammit!” Severus slammed his fist on the table and stalked out of the room.

&*&*&

_Severus sat in his heretofore-unknown aunt and uncle's house. His aunt, Philomena Cavanaugh darted kind, but nervous looks in his direction. Tobias had said she was his older sister and they did not get on when they had boarded the ferry to Dublin. Those were the only words he had uttered the entire trip. The rest of the time, he spent in quiet contemplation of the uneasy sea with his flask of whiskey. It was just as well; Severus never knew what to say to his father anymore._

_Severus appraised his aunt coolly, realising for the first time, the curse of the Snapes that had been passed from his grandparents through his father and aunt and directly to him. Her nose was enormous, hooked and quite a bit like his own. He hated her already. His uncle, an Irishman with the ginger-haired good looks of the breed, was arguing with Tobias about some matter that should have concerned Severus, but did not hold his attention._

_The evening before, Eileen Snape had been committed to a Muggle asylum. She had gone raving mad that afternoon while Severus had spent his time with Lily and Tobias had been out looking for work, supposedly. When Severus had returned home, she was clad in only her knickers and aluminium foil in the kitchenette of the hovel in which they lived, stabbing at unseen intruders with a large butcher knife. Blood ran from several deep cuts on her body. Tobias had not decided to act until Severus indicated that he saw no magical creatures. For once in Severus' short life, he had felt sorry for Tobias Snape who had married a witch and was unsure what her norms were._

_His father had wept and shook as the authorities took his wife away. Severus found out they were crocodile tears as soon as the man returned to the kitchen to pour himself a drink with a shaking hand. His mother’s crisis had interrupted his scheduled binge apparently._

_So, now he sat in a rather stuffy, middle-class Muggle home, surrounded by family about whom he did not know anything and did not care to find out. A boy came into the room, a chubby sandy-haired seven-year-old with an impish smile. Over the hubbub of the adults, he said, “M'name's Ian. What's yours?”_

_In the surly way of all older children Severus sneered, “I am apparently your cousin. My name is Severus.”_

_“That’s a Roman name, are you Catholic?” the little boy asked as he climbed into a seat next to his sallow relative._

_“No,” Severus intoned in his most acerbic tone, not yet perfected._

_“Oh,” was the boy’s puzzled answer. “We are. Da says I’m going to be a priest someday. He’s committed me to God.”_

_Severus wondered what his father would tell these Muggles about him; that the NHS had committed his mother? He crossed his arms defensively and said with a sneer in his voice, “How nice.”_

_The aunt ushered the two boys out of the room as Tobias shouted, “If his fuckin' numb cunt of a mother hadn't coddled him, I coulda left him at home alone whilst I worked. I finally find a job in that fuckin’ waste, and she chooses to go mad… Damned police called Social Services, or I wouldn't even be here, askin' for charity from a mackerel snapper...”_

_The uncle answered, a soft, deadly sound. Severus could not hear the words, but the tone spoke volumes. The aunt gave him a fluttery kind of smile and sent the two boys off to explore Ian's bedroom. Severus followed the boy, his mind on the conversation downstairs._

_An hour later Tobias was gone and Severus was shown to a beige room with tastefully bland Muggle paintings on the wall. He sat on the bed, feeling the springiness of the mattress, wondering how he could let Lily know where he was._

&*&*&

He was working in his lab later that day, his concentration the best it had been in years. He added the _Datura_ flower, after having donned the latex gloves required by the doctor, hoping he had achieved a stabilising solution for the transformation. The cauldron bubbled as the perfectly minced substance hit the surface and then turned a gratifying shade of gunmetal silver, the first time it had since the addition of the new ingredient. He set the potion under a stasis charm and stretched, feeling the satisfying tug of the gesture in his back and shoulders. He had been sure the latest calculations, provided by the resident Arithmancer, Regula Zanola, would prove to be spot on. They would be able to test the potion on one of the coyotes during the next full moon, three days after the American Holiday.

 _Independence Day_. Severus repressed the urge to roll his eyes. Of course, he was expected to take part in that particular bit of Americana. His two charges had spoken of nothing else since the damned doctor had mentioned taking them to her family's celebration. Severus had demurred, but at Stella's disappointed frown, had agreed to accompany them to her parents’ house, along with the rest of the staff, and of course, Miss DuPre. 

Today was July third. They would be leaving for her parents’ home, in a town called Newalla, this evening. Apparently her father, an Air Force retiree and Muggle, had day-long festivities planned. _Just Grand_. Not only would he be celebrating the Colonies’ independence from his native land, but he would also be subjected to some form of arcane patriotic frenzy into which only Americans could work themselves. He just hoped that there would be a great deal of space, so that he might secret himself in some hideaway for the day.

His wool gathering was broken by terrified female screams. Severus reacted before he thought, wand drawn, and sprinted toward the sound of the cries. He registered that the utterances were not Stella's, and not coming from the quarter that housed the two Zanola sisters. Charmaine DuPre was gone for the day, picking out an outfit for the festivities tomorrow, transported by Joseph Pony to the wondrous twenty-four hour Wal-Mart Supercenter in Poteau. That left... the doctor.

He burst through the door of the main building, flying past Brick, who seemed strangely unconcerned. He heard the older man say as he whipped past, “There's nothin' to be worried about, Rus.”

The Potions Master's neck hair raised as another frantic noise came from down the hall. He had only heard that terror in one situation, and that one had involved Death Eaters and a great deal of blood. He dreaded what he would find in the chamber. Severus blasted the door to her office open, only to skid to a halt. The good doctor was standing on her desk, screeching at the top of her lungs and pointing at a small, furry-legged arachnid, no bigger than a wand tip. 

Relief and anger swept Severus in cold and hot waves as he scooped the spider up in his palm and placed it outside in the scraggly bushes in front of the window. Once he latched the windows shut, he turned to the hysterical woman and said with a sneer, “My, you really are a frightened little woman, aren't you?”

As he began to exit the room, he heard a small sob escape her. Severus paused in the doorway, torn between sweeping out in his most dramatic fashion or comforting the distraught woman. He heard her say, in a voice weakened by fright, “Can you make sure that was the only one? Please...”

Severus made a show of rolling his eyes as he cast Lumos and proceeded to poke his wand in every crack and cranny of her office. Once done, he cast a mild barrier charm, one that he had developed to protect his potions stores from vermin, across the windows, doorway and any other cracks he had seen in his survey of the office. Then, he assisted the doctor from her desk. In his most disdainful tone he inquired, “Will that be all, Doctor?”

Her hand was still shaking in his as he helped her to her ancient rolling chair. Again, he made to leave and her voice arrested him once more. “I've always hated spiders. They're disgusting. Since we were attacked by the A… Acromantulas... I haven't been able to be in the same room with anything that has eight legs. I know it's stupid, but...”

“Quite understandable,” Severus returned to her, resting uneasily on her desk as he stared at the space above her head. “I feel much the same about enclosed spaces. I spent some time in Azkaban in my youth. It was the worst experience of my life.”

“We have so much in common, Snape. Both of us in Azkaban, both of us devoting our lives to hopeless causes, both of us lo--... uh, you get the picture.” Antonia's rueful words were balm to Severus' bruised ego. She sniffled slightly. “Damn, I never have Kleenex when I need them.”

Severus pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, and with a flourish born of long years of practice, handed it to her. It had taken him some time to get used to the regional oddity of speech. Most of the natives referred to common items by their brand name. All soft drinks were referred to as ‘Coke,’ all tissues as 'Kleenex.' Even Joseph Pony and Stella had remarked on the strangeness of the pattern.

“Thanks.” After she dabbed her eyes, she cleansed the cloth with a wave of her wand and handed it back to him.

Severus inclined his head, a short bow in honour of the momentary truce between them. “Until this evening, Doctor.”

Severus left the room with the flourish of robes he had planned earlier, but without the heavy burden of malice behind it.

&*&*&

_Severus spent the first fortnight of his summer holidays at his aunt's house sticking to a strict regimen of study in his room. He only came out for quick forays into the kitchen and to use the loo. He remained aloof to the attentions of the child and the blandishments of his aunt. The only person in the household not to set his teeth on edge was his uncle, who had yet to approach the young wizard._

_Severus made himself ready for the odour of the Friday evening meal. It would probably be some sort of fish, if Severus could judge by the last two Fridays. His father had said his sister's family was Catholic and that she had turned her back on the true church. As far as Severus could tell by Tobias' Sunday morning habits, the true church was located in the toilet after a night of worshipping the British equivalent of Bacchus. As with all of the meals before, Severus would wait until the family had eaten and then run to the kitchen later to glean what he could from the fridge._

_He had just showered, and was entertaining himself with the different looks he could achieve with wet hair. He ran a comb through his lank hair, letting the mass of black fall into his face. If he squinted at himself just right, he looked a little like Mick Jagger, or maybe Iggy Pop, if either singer was poor, ugly and a wizard. Severus placed the comb back on the dresser, overturning a vase in the process. Water spilled out and Severus frantically searched for something to sop up the mess before it marred the wooden surface. He would never be able to pay for the damage if there was a stain. He had just jerked the case from the pillow when his Uncle Rhuidry knocked on the closed door. “Severus, might I enter?”_

_Severus sopped up the mess and secured the pillowcase under the counterpane on the bed. He answered, breathless from his exertions as he opened the door, “Yes, sir?”_

_“Ah, now, we don't need to stand on such formalities, do we, boyo?” The ginger-haired man entered the room, and assumed a seat at the tiny writing desk in the corner that was littered with his schoolwork. Severus stood stiffly, unsure what to expect from this new threat. His uncle regarded him for a few moments, his features relaxed and open. Severus flexed his toes in his shoes, now too small from his growth-spurt at the end of the term. He would not show weakness to this man. Tobias was at his worst when he was relaxed, because his father's mood could change in a flash, and Severus was usually the target of his anger._

_“No, sir, I suppose, being family and all, we don't.” Severus sat uneasily on the bed, carefully avoiding the spreading stain of water that was now becoming obvious. The young wizard willed his uncle to look away from it._

_“I understand that things must be difficult for you, right now, but I would like you to feel free to join the family when you get your bearings.” The ginger-haired man regarded his fingernails, a thing Severus had seen Lucius do when he was feeling uncomfortable about speaking on a subject, most usually in the older wizard’s case deep emotions. Suddenly, Severus did not see this man as a Muggle interloper he had to endure, but just another human who had difficulties like his own. “Your father explained a little about the different world you come from, and I want you to know, while we don't understand most of it, we welcome you into our family.”_

_Severus nodded nervously, captivated by the soft accent of his uncle. “Thank you, sir.”_

_“Come join us for tea, then.” His uncle stood and placed a gentle hand on his nephew's shoulder. “I'll tell Mena to send up some more bedding. Next time you spill something and want to hide it, make sure the thing you overturned is set to rights again.”_

_Severus gaped as his uncle left the room with a wink at the overturned vase, as he began trilling some song in fluid Gaelic. The young wizard remained seated, letting the feeling sink in of not being punished for something he had done. He might be able to get used to this place after all._

&*&*&

When Severus returned to his cottage, Joseph Pony and Miss DuPre were sitting on the porch steps rather too cozily for his liking. He shot the boy a dour look before entering the house. He heard Stella arguing with Mari in the girl's room. Miss Loco, who had acquired the honorific since she had been decorated with sparkling, lavender nail polish and a pink neckerchief a few days ago, greeted him, tongue lolling. Severus sank to the divan, comfortably tired from the day's toils. Earlier in the day, he had asked the Brownie to pack for the overnight excursion. The family's bags sat next to the door.

He let his head sink against the back of the couch, hoping he would not have to intervene in the fight brewing down the hall. The Brownie was assuming the role of mother with Stella, and Severus was not sure he felt comfortable about the relationship. He had seen the problems wrought in the Malfoy household when the house elf, Dobby, had assumed too much responsibility for a toddler Draco. Lucius had dealt with the problem brutally, the only way he knew at the time. Severus resolved to speak with Mari after the holiday. It would not do for the creature to undermine his tenuous authority with his daughter. 

His mind turned to his colleagues as he attempted to relax. The staff had seemed to accept his name change with a lack of surprise that was entirely suspect. Surely, Death Eaters did not find their way to Oklahoma with great regularity. He would investigate the matter later.

He was absently stroking the dog's silky ear when the doctor strode through the door of the chamber. She was dressed in a small scrap of dress made of white gauze for all it covered, and brought with her the fresh, dry scent of the outdoors. Severus stood masking his tenuously maintained irritation with a perfunctory bow.

“Doctor, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I'm sorry to barge in. Joseph Pony said it was okay.” 

Severus gestured for her to take a seat, his movement fluid and controlled. The doctor sat, arranging the scraps she wore in a becoming, if somewhat revealing, way. Severus looked away from her as he assumed his seat across from her. He suppressed the throb of desire he felt at her appearance; one’s co-worker, especially those who had the ability to sack you, were off-limits to consider shagging. She slumped in the chair, her tone deadened. “So, we're back to you calling me Doctor all the time.”

 

Severus levelled a deadly glare at her as he tried to focus his attention on her face rather than the expanse of skin she displayed. She moved restlessly and heaved a sigh which broke his iron control, _damn the woman_. Her sound quickened his pulse. She drew a breath, as if in preparation to make a pronouncement. She let it go, a casualty of their conversation. She stood abruptly and Severus was treated to an expanse of shoulder as the dress sleeve slipped. Severus felt his breath catch as she moved her hair out of the way to pull up the wayward scrap. He felt himself utter her name, a soft groan that slid to his nerve endings, like the first burst of accidental magic. 

She spun to him; her eyes alight with a strange fire that he could not identify. For countless moments, they stared at each other, as if unable to break the bond that had formed tenuously that afternoon over the capture and release of a tiny arachnid. Finally, she said with a steady voice and quivering lips, “I just thought I'd let you know, we'll eat at my parent's house tonight so we'll be leaving by Floo soon. They're looking forward to meeting you and the kids.”

She fled, leaving Severus stunned by the moment.

&&&

_Severus' best memory of the summer holiday spent in Ireland was of sitting on a stool watching his Aunt Mena prepare little cakes for afternoon tea. She spoke softly of his father, making Severus uncomfortable with the parallels of his father's childhood and his own. His Grandfather Snape had been as brutal to his father as Tobias was to Severus. His Aunt Mena told him about the various ways his father had been failed by his family. Severus wondered aloud how she had escaped the fate that his mother had accepted._

_He flinched as he realised he had voiced the question. At Spinner's End, the thought alone would have been enough to cause his father to backhand him across the room. Mena simply answered, “I was lucky enough to receive a scholarship to a boarding school. I got away from it all, but poor Toby was left to deal with father and... All that was left for him to do was survive. By the time I returned, it was too late.”_

_His aunt turned back to the cakes, her shoulders slumped in a kind of defeat with which Severus was very familiar. He moved restively, wishing he were better with people so that he could comfort this mild woman. He was sure Tobias had been a lost cause well before she left for the school. Severus was not so sure about his own worth at the moment. Lily was what kept him from slipping to the darker aspects of his personality. If only he could speak to his friend right now. She would be able to sort out the strange, protective anger he felt toward his father and to a lesser extent, his mother._

_Aunt Mena rubbed her lower back, a thing she did to ease the pain of rapidly growing old the way Muggles did, Severus decided. “You know, I think we need to have a day out tomorrow, just you and me. Now, go set the table, the cakes are done and your uncle will be home with Ian soon.”_

_Severus went to the sideboard to get the cutlery but stopped as his aunt suggested, “Rhuidry's going fishing on Saturday. You should go with him. I'm sure he'd love to show off his skills.”_

_Severus snickered softly. His uncle certainly could brag, like all Irishmen and anglers. Maybe tale-telling was worse because he was both. He supposed he would have to go, just to verify if the stories of the one that got away were true._

_Aunt Mena hugged him, a quick, shy gesture, and Severus returned it in the same manner, and resumed his quest for the cutlery._

&&&

They all assembled in the Main Office to Floo out and somehow, Severus found himself close to Antonia in the crush. Stella held Miss Loco and went through the blaze of green, right after her cousin and Miss DuPre. The two Zanola sisters and Johnson went next. Brick would be joining the group the next day after he cared for the coyotes in the morning. Antonia grabbed a pinch of the powder from the container but Severus stayed her movement with a soft touch to her wrist. He felt nearly desperate to make a connection with the tiny virago before him.

He uttered the words without forethought, an action he usually avoided. “I am unaccustomed to sustaining relationships with people. I can count on one hand how may friends I have had my entire life. I would be honoured if I might count you as one.”

“Even if I say the wrong things, sometimes?” Antonia's voice was pitched so low that Severus had to lean in to hear her. 

He let his nose take in her scent, a slight floral with a hint of cinnamon. He leaned further into her, letting her dark, red hair brush his cheek. “Especially so.”

She took his hand and uttered with a husky rasp, “To Momma and Daddy's.” 

Severus entered the Floo, feeling dizzied by the pull of her hand in his.


	15. Chapter 14

Antonia's parents had _geese_. 

That the vicious, hissing, wing-spreading spawns of a Muggle Devil liked him and waddled after him protectively the entire evening, was not even a consideration in Severus‘ disdain of them. They had pinched and pecked at Stella, Miss Loco and Joseph Pony one too many times. Severus levelled his wand at one that had come too close to his daughter for his own comfort. Of course, it would help Severus' frayed nerves if the imp would quit attempting friendship with the vile creatures. The goose made a quick grab at the precariously placed paper plate on Stella's lap, and Severus let loose a stinging hex aimed directly at the creature's tail. It honked raucously and beat a hasty, if noisy, retreat. He slid his wand back up his sleeve and gave his best Death Eater smile to the goose as it flapped past him. 

Antonia leaned closer to him, sandwich in hand to conceal the movement of her mouth. “Thank you.”

The doctor apparently held a long-running war with the grey and black epitomes of evil. She had wanted to hex the creatures on general principle as the group made ready to eat the evening meal under the still-bright sun, but had not because the beasts were her father’s special pets. The doctor and Severus exchanged a look of collusion, before Antonia returned to the conversation that spun around the table. Snape returned to his contemplation of the day.

If it were not for the geese, Severus would have been able to tolerate the relaxed atmosphere of the Dance home. Antonia’s mother, a witch and Potions Mistress, was a pleasant surprise. The daughter of a Colonel stationed in Belgium at NATO in the early days of that programme, she had been educated at Beauxbatons. She was in her late sixties, and just starting to show her age, with fine lines around her eyes and a lightening of her pale, red hair. Bob Dance, a Muggle, was approximately the same age, but wore it well even so. He had greeted Severus with the proper sense of decorum and had allowed Stella to follow him slavishly about the property as he finished setting up the wonders that would be his Fourth of July show. 

Livia Dance had interrogated Joseph Pony on his knowledge of the medicinal plants of the Lakota. The younger wizard had escaped using Stella as an excuse. Joseph Pony was still uncomfortable speaking of tribal secrets to non-Lakota. Severus offered to help with the dinner, but had instead been settled in the _living room_ to watch _The News_ , safely out of the way of the bustle. He felt like he was being wrapped in cotton wool awaiting the scrutiny of Antonia’s parents. The others, more familiar with the routine of the Dance household, had found their way to various occupations. Severus fumed at being set aside, until he realised that from his vantage in the living room, he could spy on the doctor. 

The two women spoke casually of the life at the compound. A spiky undercurrent of unease wove throughout their words. Livia asked suddenly if Antonia were seeing anyone. Antonia merely grunted. 

The older witch said, “There’s no need to hide from the world. No one needs to know what happened in England with Thierry…”

“Mother, now is not the time to bring that up.” Antonia’s reply was soft and murderous. “Besides, there’s no one for me to see.”

“There is,” Livia replied with bovine placidity. 

“Johnson Kraemer is gay,” Antonia snorted, unbecomingly. “And Joseph Pony is a little young for me, Momma.”

“He’s got an Uncle, who has that darling little girl.” Livia’s pursuit continued. “He may not be the best-looking man, but he seems... dedicated. And he‘s certainly got that air of _je ne sais quois_ about him.”

 

“Snape?” Antonia’s voice nearly broke with the pitch to which it ascended. The sound would have caused Miss Loco to cock her head in pain. “Momma, I don’t think… He doesn‘t see me like that. Don‘t be ridiculous.”

“But do you see him like that?” 

Antonia began, “I…”

Johnson, damn him, spoke from the veranda. “Livia, I think Regula has found the blackberry patch. Did you want to her to show you where it is?”

Severus allowed his eyes to drift closed as Livia left the kitchen and the sound of chopping and stirring took over, only to be jerked rudely awake by Stella’s sweaty body against his. She was sniffling, and Severus struggled to sit up against her weight, his limbs heavy from his slumber. His voice was raspy as he asked, “What is it, my dear?”

“I wanted to pet the geese and they don’t like me,” Stella answered, snuffing into her hand in a manner that disgusted Severus. He drew the offending appendage down and handed her his ever-present square of cotton. “I know I’m being a baby. They bit Miss Loco too. Can you come with me to the pond? Mr. Dance says I have to ask you first. He gave me bread to feed them. So I can make friends with them, but…” 

Severus’ neck prickled in awareness as he turned slightly to see the returned Mrs. Dance and Antonia watching him with Stella. He would never understand the female of the species’ fondness for a domesticated male. Even Narcissa, ice-queen that she was, had softened when Lucius changed nappies (rarely) or fed their son (under duress.) Bellatrix’s attitude was the more familiar one to Severus. No doubt, she would have howled at the Right Hand to Voldemort puttering away at his fatherly duties.

Severus involuntarily sought the doctor’s eyes. Her expression softened as he nodded to Stella. “I shall accompany you, my dear.”

The pond turned out to be a muddy, red hole in the ground with stagnant water and an indescribable metallic stench. It was to be the site of a naval battle come morning, according to Stella. No doubt, the grim body of water was festering with mosquitoes and other treacherous creatures. The geese swarmed around them, greedily pulling the day-old bread from Stella’s eager hands. Once the bread was gone, however, they commenced to nipping and pinching Stella. Severus had enough and pulled the girl away, over her protestations of how much headway she was making in relation to the avian menaces.

On their way back, Severus spied Joseph Pony and Miss DuPre on the swings, relics of Antonia’s childhood, no doubt. Stella had joined them, still with an eye out for the honking beasts, and Severus had called Miss Loco from the fray. The dog followed him eagerly as he approached the place with food smells. 

Now, as evening fell and the evening repast was finished, Severus followed the other’s leads and returned his plate to the kitchen. Johnson began attempting small talk, his elegant, black features alight as he told Severus of the latest discovery he had made in relation to the healing powers the were-coyotes displayed. Severus nodded absently as he watched Joseph Pony and Miss DuPre exit the room. They were holding hands. Severus thought he would remind Joseph Pony of his duties, and set up the testing that Miss Dupre needed to finish her schooling. He wondered if Regula or Beatrix might consider taking the girl on as an apprentice. She was quite intelligent, and so far, good at both Charms and Arithmancy, although pants at Potions. Severus made a mental note to speak to the two spinsters when the group returned to the compound. 

He half-listened to Johnson natter on about another discovery when the foyer door flew open, crashing resoundingly against the opposite wall. Severus sat forward, wand in hand, alert, as a handsome, sandy-haired man with sculpted good looks grabbed Antonia in a familiar hug and swung her about. “Honey, I’m home!”

&*&*&

_Severus saw Lily only once before her death. It was in Hogsmeade in the spring of his return from Bavaria. He caught his breath as she passed by the window of Squidgely and Beazel, the Potions shop in which he had gained employment upon Lucius’ recommendation. Severus let his eyes follow her as he decocted the steaming mixture into a vial. One more day of the cosmetic Healthy-Glow Potions and he would be able to finish his own experiment._

_Lily walked past the shop, looking into his work area which the Messires Sqidgely and Beazel had placed in front of the window to draw the customer’s eye to Severus’ performance. Severus hated it normally and would not deign to interact with the public in general. Lily looked at him sadly and Severus sneered back. She was an Order Member, known to the Dark Lord, and it would do him no favours in that circle if he were seen being even remotely friendly with her. It would do her no favours, either, come to that. He did not want to draw attention to her, even if she had chosen to marry the toerag two months ago._

_Lily’s expression fell as she saw his sneer. No doubt she would make her way out of his life once more, leaving him as bereft as he was when she entered it as a child. Severus sought to memorise her features, softened by the short flow of time since he had seen her last, the scowl still affixed to his face, so as not to encourage comment from any passing comrades-in-arms. The Dark Lord always had his minions spying on each other, delusional bastard that he was._

_Severus moved to decoct the next cauldron’s contents, and when he looked up, Lily had disappeared. Even knowing that this was how things were and had been since his fifth year, Severus felt his imperfectly mended heart break a little again._

_He saw her later that day, after his hasty lunch-break at the Three Broomsticks, walking with Potter and Black. Lily walked between the two, her arm around Potter’s waist, Black laughing at something she said. It was then that Severus realised he had always been outside. She had tolerated him simply because he was her first friend from this world. Lily was always for Potter as Severus had been marked for the Dark Lord. He slumped against a wall, struggling to breathe around the ache in his chest. He finished the day in a haze of self-hatred and disgust. After he went to his meagre room in the evening, he indulged in a Firewhisky binge to end all._

_The next day he was back at his post, surly and noncommunicative, his normal attitude._

&*&*&

Severus stood stiffly in the corner. He should have known any interest he might have in the doctor would be repudiated when a better-looking, more personable variety was closer. He watched as the man spun a laughingly protesting Antonia in a high arc. The others from the compound, aside from the three children, gathered round the handsome interloper, greeting him eagerly. Severus winced inwardly as the American version of James Potter kissed the doctor and hugged her to him.

Once more, Severus was on the outside of a happy gathering, looking on in envy. It had always been that way with him and the world. At Hogwarts, with Lily’s family, in the Order, and even his first years with the Death Eaters, he was never quite good enough to welcome wholeheartedly into a social setting. Even after years of acclimatisation to his state, it still stung. 

He watched as Antonia introduced each person to the interloper, even giving the werewolf her attention. Severus had seen enough. He went outside to the veranda, a long, low structure that ran the entire bottom-floor of the two-storey house. Miss Loco followed, her nails clicking softly against the planks. She settled with a soft groan next to him, panting in the heat of the failing twilight.

He did not know how long he sat on the porch steps, when he heard the screen door open with a distinctive metallic screech, and then shut again. Night had fallen and Severus was sure he could remain unseen if he slunk away quietly enough. He stood slowly, willing his knees and ankles not to pop. He had reached that age where his body had started protesting the abuses of his youth. 

“’Rus?” Antonia asked to the gloom. Severus continued toward the swings, followed by Miss Loco. He heard the door swing shut. Good. He could do without the doctor’s pity. It was not as if he were interested in her romantically, or even for a meaningless shag. He told himself these things to alleviate the aching pain that had arisen in his chest upon seeing her tossed about by the Potter replica.

Severus settled into the swing’s seat, remembering another time with swings and a flying girl. The memory was vague, as if he were seeing it through a filter. He knew young Potter had received the bulk of the memory, leaving Severus with just a dim sketch of what a vision _she_ was at that moment. 

Severus leaned back, letting himself feel, once more, the weightlessness of innocent flight, and the gravity of Muggle gadgets to affect it. _Locomordres_ was the only better way to fly in Severus’ opinion. He swung higher, legs pumping back and forth to achieve lift, corded arms pulling the weight of his body against the chains. For one brief moment, he laughed, a rushed and rusty sound. He had never been one for overt expressions of mirth. What had he to be mirthful about in his life?

&*&*&

_The Carrows were the nightmare he had expected. Severus watched in feigned dispassion each time they chased down yet another plot against the Dark Lord, the Headmaster and themselves. Severus secretly cheered each time a little terroristic act found its mark._

_To his surprise, Miss Lovegood, in her pacific nonchalance, outraged the Carrows more than any other student including the Weasley girl and Longbottom‘s more open defiance. Lovegood’s pale eyes and wan looks belied a fire that Severus was hard-pressed to protect. The outrageous things she said caused both Severus and the Headmaster’s portrait to hoot with laughter and worry about her safety when the living wizard told the portrait Miss Lovegood‘s acts of verbal derring-do._

_Miss Lovegood’s latest exploit had been a mild dressing-down of Alecto for the Death Eater’s non-belief in the Snargle and Glumbie conspiracy between Gringotts and the current Minister of Magic. Of course, Severus knew that the girl had made the entire conspiracy up to cover for her friends who were, at the same moment, booby-trapping the Carrow’s quarters with spying devices and Weasley inventions. An inordinately proud Dumbledore had related the latter knowledge._

_The young woman blathered on until Amycus had run screaming from his quarters, his tongue lolling out of his mouth a good metre, as he made his slobbering way to the hospital wing. The girl had been summarily Cruciated before Severus could intervene. After the first wracking tremors of the lifted curse had passed, Miss Lovegood continued her discourse, as if nothing had occurred. Severus ground his teeth and willed himself not to laugh as Alecto threw up her hands in frustration and stormed from the area, unwilling to admit defeat in the presence of such a seemingly insane student._

_Severus had recruited an elite group of his Snakes at the beginning of his tenure - all trustworthy and entirely neutral - and he signalled one with a tap of his wand against a Proteus-charmed Knut, a replica of the ones used by Dumbledore’s Army during Umbridge‘s reign of terror. Zabini appeared, his dark eyes solemn as he joined Severus in the shadows to receive his instructions._

_Lovegood began retching, bringing up bile. Zabini walked to her as if in discovery. He placed an arm around the girl. He asked softly, “Was it the Carrows?”_

_The girl nodded, and heaved again._

_“Come on; let’s get you to the Room of Requirement. Padma will know what to do,” Zabini said over the gagging sounds she made._

_As the two children passed Severus’ hiding place, he heard Miss Lovegood say, so softly he was not sure he could actually trust his ears, “Thank you, Professor.”_

_She was too sharp-witted by far._

&*&*&

He was flying through the air when he noticed Antonia silhouetted in the light cast from an upstairs bedroom. He dragged his feet in the grassy dirt, slowing his momentum, until the swing’s chains hung taut against his weight. Antonia joined him on the next seat. “Don’t stop on my account.”

Her ironic tone did little to placate his sense of righteous self-pity. Severus extracted himself from the swing with a satisfying pop as it hit the metal post. “I was just going in. Do you need my assistance?”

“I wanted to introduce you to my brother, Gaius,” Antonia answered. “Why’d you leave?”

Severus turned back to her, leaving his face in shadow.

_Her brother._

The thought played over in his mind, nearly joyfully. “I’m not much for large gatherings.”

“I couldn’t tell,” she answered with some asperity as she plopped into the seat he vacated. “Push me.”

“Pardon me?” Severus could not quite grasp the turn of the conversation.

Antonia laughed, a low melody in counterpoint to the chirruping crickets and their ever-present summer love-song. “Push me. I don’t feel like working, and I want to swing.”

Severus manoeuvred behind her, and reluctantly grasped her waist. It was surprisingly thick and solid, as if she were a Roman sculpture of the ideal woman. Severus murmured, “You need to shove off with your feet. I refuse to do all the work.”

She did, making a perfect arc back to his hands as he gave a push at her waist once again. As they achieved the rhythm needed to lift Antonia high in the air, she said, “Guy is what he calls himself these days. He’s an actor, struggling out in Hollywood.”

“He wants to work in Muggle cinema?” Severus’ disinterested reply came slowly after he caught his breath.

“Swing with me, and I’ll tell you,” was Antonia’s flirtatious response. Severus walked woodenly to the other swing and began flying himself. “He’s nearly a Squib. We had some hard times when we were younger until he discovered he could cast glamours. He’s hoping that will be enough to get him a role.”

“He seems… handsome enough to be an actor.” 

“I received the brains and ability. He got all the looks.” Antonia began dragging her feet, slowing her ascent with each arc.

Severus stopped with a movement of his wand as he watched her sad Madonna’s face fly past him. “We should retire. I‘m sure the hour is late.”

“Yeah. Come on, I’ll show you the room you and Joseph Pony are sharing.” Antonia stood, catching up to him in a few strides. 

As they reached the stairs to the veranda, Severus paused, drawing Antonia near him with a touch of her wrist. “Your brother did not get all the looks in the family. I’m sure quite a few people find you to be a handsome woman.”

“Thanks.” Antonia’s tone was tinged with the same sadness as on the swing. “Calling a woman handsome is a nice way of saying she’s plain.” 

Severus followed her into the house, watching the sway of her hips. She stopped at the bottom of the stairs that led to the upstairs quarters. “You’re in the last room on the left. It’s Guy’s old room.”

They both paused, her foot on the bottom step, Severus facing her. 

“You’re wrong,” Severus murmured in the soft light of the stairway. “About being called handsome. It is a compliment of the highest order. It means you are not ordinary.” 

Antonia’s breath hitched as he drew her hand to his lips. “Good night, Antonia.”


	16. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Severus was dreaming. Disjointed, nonsensical images cobbled together to form an incomplete but totally comprehensible story about geese, vampires, and, strangely, Vikings in shopping malls. All were joined in their fight against Severus and Miss Lovegood. She was winning the battle by speaking in magical Limericks, backward and in a rhythmically squeaking voice. He eased to wakefulness and opened his eyes to look out the naked window. The moon was still out, though riding low in the sky. In the distance, a whippoorwill crooned to a mate, its song smoothing Severus out of his dreamily confused state. He stretched, his tendons popping loudly in the room, silent except for Joseph Pony’s steady breathing and occasional muttered word. Knowing there would be no more sleep for him that night, Severus rifled through his duffle for the dog-eared copy of _Potions Today_ , the last that he had received before he had sacrificed the subscription for Stella’s Floo powder during the school term. He slid into his trousers, a serviceable black of light cotton-twill and fastened the buttons on his white cotton shirt haphazardly, not bothering to tuck it in. He had noticed a small alcove, furnished with a decidedly feminine settee and a potted palm, at the end of the hall in which he could read if he cast a weak _Lumos_. He paused at the door to let Miss Loco join him.

He settled into the seat, resting his long, naked feet against the far end of the couch, knees bent, and began re-reading an article on the research of Muggle drugs and their applications in the field of healing potions. Miss Loco settled beside the palm with a grumbling sigh. Severus was disturbed only minutes later by click of an opening door. The Potions Master let his hair fall into his face, watching Johnson exit the room that had been given to Antonia’s brother the night before. 

Gaius followed the young Healer out and kissed him open-mouthed. A murmured phrase and then Johnson went down the hall to the loo. Antonia’s brother turned to the source of light, and waved to the Potion’s Master with a snarky smirk, before returning to his room. Severus returned his attention to the article. Johnson returned, shooting Severus a sheepish look before entering the room. Bedsprings creaked and then began a sliding susurrus as the two men apparently resumed their activities.

&*&*&

_Severus and Regulus Black were in the upstairs hall of the Riddle House attempting to show no emotion as screams erupted behind the door. It was not the first, and most certainly not last time they would hear that noise brought from a tortured throat, but these screams in particular bothered both men more than was safe to show at the moment. Severus struggled to school his features as the sounds turned to wails and then sobbing moans and finally was cut off with a frightening abruptness. A pop of Apparation was next then silence descended._

_Regulus stood as the door opened, wiping his shaking hands on his trousers. Lucius exited the room first, his colouring closer to that of marble than his more normal tone. Rabastan Lestrange was next, his swarthy features were also drained of colour, his hands shook when he mopped his mouth with a handkerchief. Lucius addressed the two younger Death Eaters, his voice soft and strained, “It is done. The Dark Lord bids you cleanse the area in his absence.”_

_What had once been a well-trained Auror and his family of four was now a mass of unrecognisable tissue, bone and blood. Both men breathed through their mouths to avoid the metallic smell of the blood as they cast specialised cleansing and vanishing spells on the horror._

_Black, over the last months, had become less than enthusiastic in his participation in the ‘games’ in which the Dark Lord indulged. As the two young Death Eaters finished the task, Regulus closed his eyes and moved his wand, casting a modified version of the Silencing spell. “Is being a Death Eater what you expected, Severus?”_

_“Shut it, Black.” Severus hissed, mindful of the Dark Lord‘s increasing paranoia and his tendency to leave spying and tracking spells in his wake._

_“I didn’t think it was like this.” Black let out a sough of breath. “We were supposed to be fighting battles, not killing children.”_

_Severus grabbed the younger man by his collar, and pushed him against the crumbling plaster of the wall. “I thought the only Gryffindor in your family was Sirius. I said, Shut it. Now.”_

_“You know it’s not what he promised.” Black insisted as he grappled with Severus’ hands. “None of this will end well.”_

_“The Dark Lord isn’t one for fairy tales, Black. There will be no happily ever after. You knew what would be expected when you took the Mark.” Severus drew away, disgusted with the other wizard‘s weakness. “I’m the one who told you not to join if you weren‘t committed, if you’ll remember.”_

_Black blinked and swallowed his voice weak as he said, “The family… The boy was fifteen… a year younger than me. We were… seeing each other.”_

_“Oh, Merlin‘s hairy testicles.” Severus sneered. “So that‘s your excuse for involving me in your talk of treason? You were in love?”_

_“Fuck you, you bastard.” Black pushed the older wizard against the wall. “What if they wanted you to do this to Evans? Or am I wrong; did you only want to fuck the Mudblood?”_

_“You know nothing.” Severus gripped the younger man’s fingers, crushing them in his hands strong from brewing. A tremor of unreasoning fear, almost prescient in its intensity, shot through him. It drew a moan from him as he shivered against it._

_“We all have our price for betrayal, Severus. I wonder what yours will be.” Then Black kissed him, a punishing gesture that tasted of clove cigarettes and the blood torn from Severus’ lips against his own jagged teeth._

_It was Severus’ first kiss, and it was with a bloody madman and brother of one of his worst enemies. Severus pushed the younger man to the floor, drawing his wand. “Never touch me again. Ever._

_He stalked from the room, gore still clinging to his clothes and shoes. He had no doubt that he would have to pay for his lapse later._

&*&*&

“Hey, ‘Rus.” Antonia padded down the hall to him, wearing nothing more than a pair of men’s boxers and a man’s white vest. He thought the ensemble quite fetching. He grunted his greeting as he attempted to disregard the other articles of clothing that she obviously lacked.

She touched one of his long, pale feet with her hand and Severus pulled them back, awareness of her and his reaction to it, tantamount on his mind. “May I sit?”

Another grunted reply was Severus’ response. The settee was entirely too small for two adults to sit without touching. Antonia draped one of her arms over the back of the delicate furnishing, brushing Severus’ hair with her hand in the process. She observed, “Ugh… You have Potion-hair.”

“Pardon?” Severus peered at her through the greasy mass, his face held blank, waiting for the insults to follow.

Antonia chuckled, a low throaty sound that cut through the soft noises of the night. “I don’t mean anything by it. My mom had the same problem with oily hair when she was working. She never could find any wizarding products to get rid of it... I think she found a Muggle product that worked fairly well. Would you like me to ask her what she used to use?”

“Antonia, what do you want?” Severus folded down the tip of the page in his journal, and closed it before setting it primly in his lap.

The woman considered him for a moment as the soft noises of spending passion sizzled in the quiet. She took a breath, as if to speak, and then her eyes skittered away from his. After a few moments she said, “You look nice when you’re not all Potion-Mastery.”

A small chuff of laughter escaped him. “Potion-Mastery?”

“You know, buttoned up. Forbidding. In that Old World get-up.” Antonia said, as she began toying with her vest. Severus caught a tantalizing hint of pale skin as her hands wrestled with the shirt. “You know how to cook. Let’s go start breakfast.”

She jumped from the seat and took his hand. He followed her after a moment of hesitation, enjoying the feel of her soft hand on his calloused one. Miss Loco followed.

Once downstairs, Antonia pulled a rasher of bacon from the freezer and handed it to Severus. “You know how to use a microwave, right?”

“No, madam, I do not.” Severus smirked. “I do know how to use a wand, however.”

He cast a thawing charm on the meat, vanishing the frost and ice in a blink. Antonia huffed at him as she brought out milk and eggs. “That’s a nice charm. You’ll have to teach me that one sometime.” 

She brought two cast-iron frying pans out of the cabinet by the hob. “You do know how to use a stove the Muggle way, don’t you?”

Severus refused to be baited and took the outstretched pan. Antonia cast him an amused look. “You prefer pancakes or waffles?”

“I prefer toast and tea.” Severus said. Then he relented as Antonia began to speak. “Stella will enjoy pancakes “

“You don’t eat enough.” Antonia said as Severus finished placing the bacon in the frying pan and set a kettle on the back burner to boil. She cast a look at his thin form. Severus was reminded of Poppy as she spoke, sending waves of longing for a home which he had only dreamed of having. Antonia began mixing the batter, flipping some out on the counter-top. Severus handed her a sponge from the sink.

“Thanks.” Antonia mopped up the mess, and then went to the walk-in pantry. She came back holding a bag of chocolate and poured some of the tiny morsels into the batter.

Severus asked in disbelief, “Chocolates for breakfast?”

“For special occasions and holidays, only.” Antonia winked flirtatiously. 

Severus frowned forbiddingly. “You do that quite often.”

“Do what?” Antonia ladled a dollop of batter into her heated frying pan. 

Severus prodded the bacon. “You wink. It disturbs me.”

“Oh, I guess I never noticed I did it.” Antonia stirred the batter with a wooden spoon, and then prodded the cooking pancake as she stared at him. “Why does it bother you?”

“Never mind.” Severus said as he turned the bacon. She continued to stare at him. “I am unused to idle flirtation.”

“You can’t tell me no one’s ever flirted with you, Severus Snape.” Antonia flipped the pancake, which had become a golden-brown on one side.

Severus felt his features sink into his more formidable expression of curled-lipped disdain. “Do I appear to be a wizard with whom a witch of any taste would flirt?”

“Yes.” Antonia’s simple reply caused Severus to blink. Several times. In rapid succession. She deftly flipped the pancake onto a waiting plate and tore off a piece. “Try it, and let me know what you think.”

She held out the portion to him. As Severus reached for it, she drew it out of his reach. “No, take it from my fingers. It won’t taste as good with too much handling.”

Severus bent, tasting the sweet cake and the salty-soap tang of her fingers. He lips opened slightly giving Severus a glimpse of her pink tongue and white teeth. He traced her lips with his eyes, memorising their colour in the soft morning light. Antonia stepped away, all business again as she ladled more of the batter into the frying pan. “Can you get the eggs while I finish these up?”

Severus returned to his duties as he fished out the golden bacon and Vanished the grease from the frying pan. He wondered if her lips would taste of chocolate and desire.

&*&*&

_His mother was not back from the hospital by Yule Break, so Severus found himself once again shuttled to Dublin. He did not mind, really, but it did mean more time away from Lily than he really wanted. Potter had made some inroads with Lily in the last term after Mulciber and Avery hexed Mary McDonell. It seemed strange to him that Lily was upset about her friend being put in the infirmary by the two Slytheins, but the countless times that Severus had spent there at the hands of the self-styled Marauders received little comment. In his book, four against one was worse than two against one._

_It was no matter, however, because he would be allowed to Floo from Dublin to Lily’s house for the New Year. Severus could be satisfied with that since Potter would be nowhere around._

_When he reached the dock, his aunt’s family awaited. He waved shyly at the adults and picked up his cousin, holding him aloft as the boy squealed out a joyous scream. Aunt Mena hugged him, and Severus noted she was thinner than she had been in the summer. “It’s so nice to see you again, Severus.”_

_“You too, aunt, uncle.” Severus gave his best smile, more a tightening of the lips than a real expression. Tobias had clouted him in the jaw the night before he left, making it hard to form a more suitable image of his true joy at seeing them._

_Uncle Rhuidry clapped him on the back. “It’s good to have you back, boyo. Maybe we can get some fishing in while you’re here.”_

_“More like you showing off while he listens to you brag, Rhuidry. The fish won‘t be biting, Severus.” Aunt Mena said with a wheezy laugh. Severus looked at her strangely, noting the lack of colour in her sallow cheeks and the gauntness of her frame. When he thought to inquire after her health, she waved the question away with a sad, faraway look in her eyes. Severus picked up his bag, and followed them out of the building._

_It was that night, when Rhuidry came in to see if he needed anything before he retired for the night, that Severus found out what was wrong. “Boyo, your Aunt Mena’s got cancer. It’s in her bones. She won’t last the year out.”_

_Severus patted the older man as Rhuidry cried softly into his hands. It didn’t seem fair that she would be taken away from him just when he got to meet her and know her kindness…_

_“Life isn’t fair, boy. When you understand that, you’ll have learned an important lesson,” He heard his father’s nasty, slurring voice say to his mind. Severus saw his uncle out of the room and began a letter to Lily that he would never send. He hated life sometimes._

&*&*&

They finished making the breakfast just as the first of the house awoke. Bob, his grey hair poking out at all angles, asked Joseph Pony and Charmaine to set the table as he poured a cup of coffee for himself. Stella begged the older Muggle for her own cup and Bob deferred the question to Severus. “No, my dear, but you may have tea. Please, help Joseph Pony and Miss DuPre.”

The girl went to the dining area, stating angrily, “Daddy says I’m supposed to help you. What do you want me to do?” 

Severus continued stirring the eggs as Antonia laughed at his daughter’s attitude. “I remember being that age. You’re not old enough for most things, but too old to be treated like a child. It’s tough.”

Severus pursed his lips and made the Lakota noise that he had learned from his charges. He began spooning the eggs out of the frying pan when he felt Gaius’ hand on his shoulder. “Toni tells me your name’s Snape. Are you any relation to that spy from we heard so much about in the news?”

“Gaius.” Livia’s warning tone cut through the busy sounds of the morning. “Come help me get the food on the table.”

Gaius muttered darkly as he glared at Severus, “I’m just watching out for Toni, mom. You can’t be too sure with the English wizards where their allegiance was, even if they were acquitted. I heard that spy was just as happy to kill Muggles as the rest of those Death Eaters.”

“That’s enough son. The man’s a guest in our house.” Bob answered his son in an even, but deadly tone. “Besides, I was in intelligence too. You might say the same things about me when I went to Vietnam. Now go help your mother.”

Antonia gave Severus a communicating look before she took the pancakes into the dining room. Severus followed reluctantly.

&*&*&

“Okay, now, take the powder horn and pour the load down the barrel.” Severus did as Bob bade him to do. “Now push the wadding and mini-ball in, and then tamp it all down with the rod. Now put the cap on the nipple.”

Severus let his spidery fingers crawl to the pouch at his waist, preparing the gun to fire. He really did not know how the older Muggle had talked him into firing the black-powder flintlock. It might have something to do with Gaius’ denigration of Severus’ masculinity. A ridiculous idea, to be sure, but the man got his back up. All through breakfast, he had made digs about Severus’ past, and his looks. The Gryffindorish qualities of the man galled him, along with his rugged good looks and falsely winning demeanour. It was when ’Guy’ intimated that only a real man could handle the gun that Severus’ calm façade cracked. 

He knew he was being foolish as soon as he saw Bob bring out the long-barrelled gun. Severus would never get used to the American fascination with these instruments of death. 

He looked to the side and behind him, noting Brick and the Zanola sisters keeping Stella occupied. Miss DuPre, Livia and Antonia were conspicuously absent from the group that had gathered in the back yard after breakfast. The geese had been put away for the day. Joseph Pony lounged against the side of the shed next to the improvised firing range, his arms folded over his chest, well away from the smarmy Gaius. “Don’t let him get to you, Uncle ’Rus.”

The boy shot the preening Gaius a hate-filled look. Severus’ heart swelled with unaccustomed warmth at the boy’s sympathy. Joseph Pony instructed in a low-pitched tone, “Keep the barrel away from your shoulder. It’ll have a kick, so hold it tight, but not against your body. Keep your left eye shut and ease back on the trigger while you aim down the sight.”

Severus followed the boy’s directions and felt the gun pull as the load of black-powder was ignited. With a deafening roar, the gun slammed back into his shoulder, and his hand went numb from the impact. Bluish, sulphurous smoke billowed around him, but Severus was still able to discern a satisfying puff of dirt kick up as the bullet hit its mark. Joseph Pony gave a curt nod. “Good job. You might be able to go huntin’ with me this fall, if you practice a little bit more. I really want some venison and squirrel this year.”

“I would rather not, thank you.” Severus knew his tone was too prim, but could not envision himself as a big game or rodent hunter. He would stick to pre-packaged store-bought meat, thank you. He handed the gun to Bob, and began rubbing his aching shoulder. 

“Okay, show’s over, folks!” the older man cried. “Now it’s time for some fireworks!”

&*&*&

Severus had his fill of loud bangs, rockets, and the squealing of chemicals. He had been impressed by the ’naval battle’ staged by the Bob Dance, but soon the sounds began wearing on his nerves. He retired to the quiet of the alcove he had inhabited earlier when Joseph Pony began devising cannons from tins left over from the lunch preparations. Sporadic pops and shouts of awe punctuated the rest of the morning and late into the afternoon. Poor Miss Loco had retreated under a bed and had not been seen since.

Now, Severus escaped once more, still full from the baked beans, potato salad, grilled burgers and homemade cherry ice cream of lunch. Night had fallen, and soon the air would be filled with the coloured lights of the ephemeral Muggle fireworks. Severus had watched them as a child on Guy Fawke’s day, and had been fascinated by them. Once he was an adult, they had lost their appeal as they reminded him more of curse flashes than celebrations. Once more, he found himself in the alcove, looking at the Potions journal, but unable to concentrate as the fireworks began. He ran a shaking hand over his hair, wishing for the celebration to be over so that he could escape. He increased the intensity of his _Lumos_ spell, lighting the alcove to a brilliant intensity to keep from seeing the flashes of green, red and blue. 

“Wow, Snape.” Antonia approached her hand shielded over her eyes. Severus dimmed the spell reluctantly. “Scooch over a little bit.”

“Scooch.” Severus repeated with a black brow lifted in disbelief, ascertaining the meaning, but wondering about the origin of the word. 

Antonia sat next to him on the settee. She answered, “Yes, scooch. The act of scooting over for a friend. From the Latin: Scoochius gluteus maximus, meaning move yer ass.”

Her eyes twinkled as she extemporised. Severus gave a half smile, amused by her word-play. “Is the ability to lie about the aetiology of words a particular trait of Americans, or is it limited to your realm of expertise?”

“Its mine and mine alone, ‘Rus.” Antonia smiled at him, a mere fluttering of the lips. “Are you having a hard time?”

Antonia placed a cool hand on his as a green flash punctuated by a squealing shriek occurred outside the room. Severus clutched her fingers spasmodically but said nothing. She offered, “It’s affecting me. When we were pinned down at the Battle of Hogwarts, there were all sorts of spells flashing around us.”

“I was dying then.” Severus answered, as another flash occurred. Antonia stroked his hand with her thumb. “I gave up all my best memories to a dunderheaded child, and I was dying.”

Antonia shifted until her thigh and hip touched his. The two remained silent until the next flash. “’Rus, who was Lily? You mentioned her when you were out of it.”

“No one.“ Severus’ chest felt as if it were compressed underwater with no Gillyweed left. He closed his eyes against the pain. “And everyone to me. I was responsible for her death.”

“I killed Thierry, my fiance. During that battle. He had been bitten by the Acromantulas and mauled by a werewolf.” Antonia said in reply. Severus felt the erratic quality of her pulse through his leg. “He begged me to end his life. When two Death Eaters discovered us, I cast _Avada Kedavra_. That’s why I went to prison.”

“I went because I was a Death Eater.” Severus whispered to the lull in the flashes, his voice dull. “If it hadn’t been for Albus, I would have stayed. I ended up killing him for his mercy.”

Antonia pressed more tightly to his side; the curve of her breast burned his arm. “Severus, this morning you asked me what I wanted. Do you still want to know?”

His mind screamed _no_ , but he moved closer to her, letting his arm drift around her waist, pulling her flush to him in the process. He whispered into her hair as he let his lips drift to the flat plane of her cheek, to her ear, down her neck, trailing hot kisses. “Antonia, don’t. I’m not the easiest man.”

“I know, but I don’t think lightning strikes twice for people like us, Severus. “ She sighed against the scars on his neck. “Let’s just make the best of our situation. That’s what I want.”

“Yes,” he said into the small void between them. Then he kissed her feeling the ebb and flow of their desire as more flashes and bangs occurred outside the window.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Please take the time to let me know what you think.


	17. Chapter 16

_Have you a list of likely candidates, Severus?”_

_Albus Dumbledore sat behind his desk, a stack of parchment to his right. His eyes were uncharacteristically dim as he rifled through the chaotic pile. Severus shifted his weight from one cheek to the other, attempting to ease the cramping pains in his back. It had been two days since the Dark Lord had resurfaced, and Severus was still feeling the effects of being Cruciated. He had forgotten how truly agonising the curse could be._

_Severus pulled a sheet of parchment from his pocket. If his hands shook or if his movements were slower than normal, Albus knew better than to comment. The Potions Master spread out the meticulously-folded document and handed it to the Headmaster. The older wizard looked at the list then to the spy‘s face. Severus answered the unspoken question, “Yes. It is quite a short list.”_

_“Percy Weasley?” Albus’s gaze rose to the spy with a jerky motion. “Are you certain, Severus?”_

_Severus quirked his brow, letting his beetle-black gaze fall to the surface of the parchment. “You have doubts, Albus?”_

_“No, my boy.” Albus returned to his perusal of the parchment. “The thought of his defection will crush his parents.”_

_“He needn’t take the Mark,” Severus answered dryly. “Given his admirable people skills with authority figures, it might be best to keep him in the Ministry instead of infiltrating the ranks as I have done. For that, his parents need never know about his duties.”_

_“There has already been a rift there, Severus.” Albus shook his head. “Are you certain young Mr. Weasley will be sympathetic to our cause?”_

_Severus stood, unable to bear both the pain lancing down his long muscles and the look of resignation on Dumbledore’s face. He turned to a mullioned window in the office. “I had quite the conversation with him after the Crouch incident. His faith has been - shall we say - shaken. He will do as you bid.”_

_Albus read further. “Mr. Zabini and Miss Bulstrode… Severus, they are much too young.”_

_Severus clenched his hands on the ancient, wooden windowsill, letting his nails dig into the stained and marred substrate. “I am twenty years their senior and their Head of House. My snakes won’t reveal everything I need to know. They stay on the list. There will be no compromises on this Albus.”_

_“But to groom them so young in such…” Albus began, only to stop as if he had not fully considered his words._

_“What of Potter?” Severus smirked to his multifaceted expression in the glass before him. To the silence he drawled, “You have something to say to me, Albus, about grooming young people to do a job? Have you forgotten the grooming process you devised for me… or were the mutt and wolf supposed to succeed in murdering me?”_

_Albus sighed. The argument was an old and bitter one, not weakened by their long association. “You certainly can carry a grudge, my boy.”_

_“Zabini and Bulstrode stay.” Severus turned to Albus, keeping his tone cool. “This war will be won by Slytherin cunning, not Gryffindor bravado.”_

_The last words were spoken with a twist of his lip and some degree of distaste. Albus smiled, the twinkle returned to his eyes. “Very well, Severus. When will you begin Occlumency lessons with them?”_

_“I already have,” Severus said smoothly. “Last year. I will continue with the two students during the summer. Mr. Weasley will need to contact me to begin his lessons.”_

_“Very well, Severus. Keep me apprised of their progress.” Albus steepled his fingers under his nose, letting silence descend, as his expression became solemn. “We might consider affording Mr. Potter the benefit of your skills. I fear the link between him and Tom is growing stronger.”_

_Severus held his face still, not letting the gut-roiling idiocy of the idea register on his outward appearance. The thought of seeing Lily’s eyes in James Potter’s face was still enough to send him into fits of barely-controlled fury, having to spend his precious free time with the Brat-Who-Lived would be unbearable. “If that is all, sir.”_

_“Severus…” Albus’ tone was querulous, ancient. Severus drew himself up to his full height, feeling only a twinge of a spasm along his back muscles. The Headmaster looked away first. “That will be all.”_

&*&*&

Joseph Pony’s lacklustre appearance had worried Severus for several days. The boy and Miss DuPre seemed to be on the outs at the moment. Severus did feel for the young man, but was equally relieved to see the relationship end. The older wizard wondered about offering relationship advice to the obviously dejected boy, but dismissed the idea out of hand. His relationship with Antonia, although improved since the American holiday, had seemed to stall. After their initial rush to a greater physical intimacy, Severus had cooled. He nobly told himself that he wanted to set a good example for the children, but his capacity for self-deception was low. He was scared witless to think of bedding the woman. He sensed that her reaction to him was much the same, so they contented themselves with occasional touches and shared interests. More he could not manage, at least at the moment.

Severus watched over the latest creation of his protégé, careful to assist only when asked. Joseph Pony’s demeanour was surly this morning. Severus, while working on the latest version of Wolfsbane Potion was in the midst of stirring the one-hundred-and-fifty times needed at this precise stage. The boy sighed, a gusty one that stirred the flames under his cauldron. Severus raised a brow. “Mr. Red Horse, guttering the flames will only cause your newest batch to fail. Please pay attention.”

The boy slammed a small vial down that held an expensive bit of Boomslang skin. Severus grunted softly in reproach, letting the boy know his fit of temper was not appreciated. The Potions Master continued his stirring, aware of the hard looks the boy was directing at him. The count over, Severus turned to Joseph Pony. “Is there something on your mind, Mr. Red Horse?”

The boy looked away, his sheet of silky, black hair falling from the tie, which held it back. He moved it back behind his ear, an almost girlish gesture. “Like you don’t know.”

“I can admit that I do not, Mr. Red Horse,” Severus intoned. “I am also not up for childish guessing-games.” The Potions Master set a stasis charm on both the cauldrons.

Joseph Pony affected a flat-faced obstinacy which he knew galled Severus no end. He pointed with his lips toward the door. “She knows you don’t like her.”

“Ah,” Severus answered. “You are looking for someone to blame for Miss DuPre’s inconstancy.” 

The Potions Master turned back to his task, with the sure knowledge that his charge would interrupt his next moments. Severus felt the prickle of awareness on the back of his neck that the boy was staring at him, and then suddenly the door closed

Later in the day, Antonia entered the lab. “Hi.”

Severus bent to kiss her upraised cheek as she sat next to him in the spot Joseph Pony had vacated hours before. Antonia leaned against the marred surface, letting her hand rub the scars in the granite top as she fidgeted under Severus’ scrutiny. “Have you got a minute for some non-potion talk?”

Severus put his quill down which he had been using to add variables to the complex Arithmantic calculation on the sheet of parchment before him. He enquired with a degree of trepidation. “You have my entire attention. What is it?”

“I know you need to go to Meridian next week to get supplies for Stella’s next school year.” She let her deep hazel eyes slide to him. “I made an appointment with an immigration lawyer I know so you can start being yourself again.”

Severus picked up his quill in dismissal. “Thank you.” 

“Oh, now I’ve upset you,” Antonia said, her tone accusing. “I asked you to make the appointment. You never did.”

He had been putting off the inevitable. He gave a sideways motion of his shoulders as if to shake off her observation. “I am still unsure of the wisdom of this, Antonia.”

“Severus, we’ve got a USDA inspection coming up. They’ll want to speak to our Potions Master about the treatments we have given the coyotes,” Antonia stated with some exasperation in her tone. “That means they will want to speak to you. You can’t be Russell Spane with them. They‘ll know who you are and that you‘re here illegally.”

Severus grimaced. Low-level bureaucrats were the least of his concerns at the moment. The figures he had plugged into the calculations were not resolving themselves. He tapped the parchment with his wand once more, scowling as the numerical expressions of the magic needed to infuse the newest variation in the Wolfsbane potion remained static. The Datura should have effected a greater change in the control than it had in the last test. Antonia looked over his shoulder, her gaze riveted by the numbers. 

“Have you tried…? Of course you have.” She scowled along with him. “We’re not seeing something in the curse component of the condition. I need to do some reading and maybe talk to Beatrix.”

She stood abruptly, letting her hand rest on his shoulder as she did. “The appointment is on Wednesday of next week. Is that okay?”

As she made her way out of the room, Severus was once again reminded of Miss Granger. He shook his head and resumed his calculations.

&*&*&

_The Old Woman was reading out of a battered Bible to the children between puffs of her pipe. Joseph Pony was cleaning a gun and Stella listened in rapt attention to the story of Noah and the Ark. Severus barely repressed a sneer as the Old Woman droned on about the ridiculous compact between some middling wizard and his so-called god. Sons of God and daughters of man aside, the story was just ridiculous. Rainbows were made from a collision of light particles and water, and were most definitely not the product of some imbecilic fairy tale. The Old Woman closed the book with a snap. “Time for bed,_ nitakoja ki. _You too, Joseph Pony. Tomorrow is a work day."_

_She watched the children as they reluctantly went to their rooms, and then turned her eyes to Severus. "You don't believe in them stories."_

_It was not a question, but Severus answered with a slight shake of his head. "I learned long ago to place my faith in what I could see and experience."_

_"That could be a good thing, but so can believin' in something bigger than yourself." She puffed her pipe once more, letting the smoke drift lazily from the glowing bowl. Severus turned his attention once more to the yellowed National Geographic that he had purchased at a thrift shop in Rapid City, one of many in a set dating back to the 1940's. Silence descended between the two as the logs crackled in the Ben Franklin stove that warmed the house during the early autumn cold snap the region was experiencing. After a few moments, Severus looked to the Old Woman. She gave him a beatific smile. "So, them wizards in England, they don't believe in anything?"_

_"No, madam._ I _do not believe in anything now. When I was younger, that kind of thinking created a great deal of difficulty for me." Severus sneered. "And please do not mistake me for an entire nation."_

_She bestowed a wheezy laugh to his acerbic comment. "Yer head's big enough to make me think that ‘bout you."_

_Severus shifted uncomfortably at her gibe. He was unused to the type of humour to which the natives subscribed. Barbed comments and blunt observation were de rigueur with the Lakota and were greeted with hoots of sly laughter. It made Severus uncomfortable to be the recipient of the same derision upon which he had heaped his students and associates throughout his tenure at Hogwarts. The Old Woman puffed on her pipe, beating a tattoo on the worn leather surface of the Bible. "Boy, don't let me get yer back up. I think them white people that read this stuff and believe it like it was real are just as crazy as you do. They sure are good stories, but just that. I just wanted to make sure before..." The fire crackled noisily and she broke off the sentence with a start. "It's gettin' late, ennit. I think I'll turn in myself."_

_She shifted and stood slowly from her rocking chair beside the stove. Severus looked up at her sharp retreat from the conversation before he settled back to reading about the daring exploits of some long-forgotten tribe of aborigines in Southeast Asia._

&*&*&

Dinner was cooling on the table when Severus entered the cottage. He still had not resolved the conundrum with the potion and had spent the entire afternoon poring over five-hundred-year-old texts with Antonia that had been floo'ed from the Main Office. Stella sat in her chair, hunched over her seventh-grade text for Charms, flicking an imaginary wand as she reviewed. Joseph Pony slouched in the seat adjacent to hers, scowling at Mari as the Brownie placed the light salad on the table, and took her customary place at Severus' right hand. The Brownie had become a fixture during mealtimes after Stella insisted the Chapa-spirit's great-granddaughter be so honoured. Severus felt a little odd dining with her, but the fight that would have ensued with his daughter had he refused would have strained his waning reserves of patience on that day. The Brownie snapped her fingers and food appeared on the plates of each of the diners.

Severus washed his face and hands hastily before he sat. "My dear, we are ready to dine."

Stella swished her hand through the air once more before shutting the book with an impatient snap. Severus had established the no books rule during the school year and had needed to reinforce it occasionally as the summer wore on and Stella chafed to be in school once more. 

Joseph Pony picked at the greens in the separate bowl provided by the Brownie. Severus dreaded the conversation he knew must ensue about the boy's love life. He was sure the werewolf's withdrawal of affections had more to do with her past than anything Severus or Joseph Pony did. Truth be told, Severus had arranged for the girl to continue her education in both Charms and Arithmancy and was feeling much better about the boy's interest in Miss DuPre. He assumed that the fact that he had caught them before they rushed to greater intimacy was the deciding factor in Miss DuPre's strategic retreat. 

Severus joined the conversation that Stella valiantly began about her further studies. She had received her class schedule and a list of texts required for the approaching school term. For a moment, he was struck with sudden and complete nostalgia for a job he had hated, or at least thought he did. If he were truthful with himself, though, there had been few transcendent moments in his tenure as Professor; he had always looked forward to each new term with anticipation. The thought that he might discover some pupil worthy of his attentions, a younger version of himself, without all the dark baggage, always made him nearly giddy with joy. He was almost always disappointed in his quest for that perfect moment of comprehension from his students. Very few had ever attained the status of equal. Potter had come close in Defence, Severus admitted grudgingly. The boy's insights into the nature of Dark magic and the counter to them had truly astounded Severus, given his indifferent performance in Potions. Draco had been a disappointment to him; academically the boy was too volatile to perform adequately, but the Weasley twins... They had been his greatest challenge, their innate grasp of the nature of potions wasted on the application for which they chose to pursue. Not to say that Severus could not understand their desire to get ahead. The Potions Master, at his core, was still that poorly-dressed sod who quaked at the thought of anyone, especially Lily, discovering his penury. He understood their desire to have all that had been denied them, at least materially.

He hoped they were still doing well with their little shop. They deserved that, at least, especially after Severus had chopped one of their ears off in that ill-conceived plot to let Potter escape his childhood home. Had Severus truly been serving the Dark Lord, that flight would have gone very differently. 

"--Daddy?” Stella had been speaking to him, and now she turned her concerned gaze to his. "Are you having another attack? You haven't even eaten yet."

Severus turned his attention to the untouched cutlet and green vegetables. The saffron rice had been stirred, but not diminished by him. "I was just thinking about... _things_ , Stella."

Joseph Pony smirked darkly at the older wizard's comment. Stella gave a doubtful shrug of acceptance. "Can I get up now? I'm done and I want to finish my review before I have to go to bed."

"You _may_. I shall help Mari clear the dishes for the evening." Severus placed the serviette from his lap next to his plate as the infernal Mari cast a warming charm on his meal and countered his effort to rise.

"I is needing no help from the Potions Master," Mari scowled as she began levitating the emptied plates from the meal. "The Potions Master is needing food though. I is knowing he and the doctor did not eat this afternoon."

Severus scowled darkly but began to sift through the food on his plate, purposefully shovelling food into his mouth as if he were the youngest male Weasley. He shot a pointed look at Mari and smirked at Joseph Pony's expressed disgust.

&*&*&

_The auburn-haired Weasley sat before him in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, his skin pasty in the wan light cast from the fireplace. Severus had questioned him at length about his involvement in the Crouch affair. The boy never broke, merely acted more priggish with each successive question. Severus thought he might be able to mould the boy into a fine tool, once he overcame the extreme and hungry pride of place the boy possessed. The Potions Master levelled his stare at the boy once more. "Have you sufficiently cleared your mind, Mr. Weasley?"_

_"Yes, sir." The boy's frown of concentration and his jutting jaw made Severus want to knock him down a few pegs, but he refrained from making the practice session more difficult than it already was._

_"_ Legillimans. _" Severus whispered as he pointed his wand at the boy. Severus was greeted by a blank wall of featureless, grey brick. The boy was a natural, or had much to hide. Severus battered at the wall, finding and exploiting a chink in the surface and suddenly he was in Hogwarts..._

_Percy Weasley saw much that he had never before revealed, squirreling information away for future use. He viewed himself through the boy's eyes, greasy-haired, hooked nose and sickly pale. It was the night of the final task and Severus was ill with worry over what would come from Potter's revelations. Percy observed this with some satisfaction. He could use this if things went as pear-shaped as he thought they might. Severus felt the former Gryffindor's burning desire to make a difference in the coming conflict, on whatever side that chose him first._

_Severus withdrew from the spell and fixed the boy with a contemplative look. "I suppose we are most fortunate you accepted our offer, Mr. Weasley."_

_Percy merely spread his hands as if flexing them then sat back in his seat. "It's much more complicated than what I showed you, Severus, if I may call you that, spy to spy?"_

_"Yes, Percy." Severus stressed the moniker, liking the feel of power over the boy that it gave him. "It always is more complicated, and less so, isn't it?"_

_The Weasley boy gave a shift to his shoulders, more a twitch than an actual gesture. Severus levelled his wand at the boy's throat. "I should kill you now."_

_"But you won't," the boy answered without a blink. "People like us are too valuable to waste. I have made my decision, Severus. I won't be going back on my word. If you need character references contact Blaise Zabini or young Mister Nott. They know I'm a man of my word."_

_"What, no Gryffindor references?" Severus sneered._

_Weasley let his composure crack for a moment. The boy was definitely master of his emotions, so Severus knew the breach had been allowed. "Would you believe one of my Housemates?" The boy's face became a mask of contempt. "You are just as dim as the Headmaster when it comes to House prejudices."_

_Severus laughed, a brittle sound that shattered in the airless quality of the room. "You might think that, boy."_

_The two glared at each other until both looked away when Black made a noise in the upper rooms. Weasley turned his raptor-like attention to the disturbance. Severus sat back in the seat he occupied. "Very well. Shall we continue?"_

_Weasley moved his hands in a graceful sweep indicating victory and concession at once. "Yes."_

&*&*&

As was becoming their norm, Severus met Antonia on her porch after dinner. She joined him on the porch swing with a glass of iced tea for both of them. They swung in silence, both unwilling to broach the subject of their failures of the afternoon. Severus let the soft sound of jazz that issued from the wireless in the house sooth him. He had never been partial to any form of music after his obsession with the glam-rock of his youth, but he found he could appreciate the inharmonic qualities of jazz. Antonia sipped her tea. "It's John Coltrane."

"Ah," Severus answered. He let his palm fall open on the seat between them. She took it, softly running her fingers over his pale skin. The sharp ache of desire cut through his midsection, but as usual, he resisted it. The song ended and another began after a short interruption for commercials. Severus drew her hand to his lips. "I was not angry. This afternoon. You simply surprised me."

"I know," Antonia answered. "I think I'm destined to misread you every time we talk."

Severus shifted, placing his arm over her shoulders as he drew her to him. He rested his nose in her fragrant hair, inhaling the intoxicating scent that was uniquely hers. "I told you I was difficult."

"So am I." She chuckled against his throat, drawing chills on his skin where she breathed. He pondered his physical attraction to her as she traced the scars on his neck. "'Rus?"

"Hmmm?" 

"Nothing." She drew away, as was their custom when action might lead to further intimacy. Severus stood.

"I'm afraid I must leave, Antonia." Severus righted the collar of his shirt, refastening the button that she had released in her exploration. "Mr. Red Horse has some concerns about my feelings on Miss DuPre."

"Oh. I was wondering when he would bring up that elephant in the room." Antonia joined him on the first step of the porch.

Severus turned his hooded gaze to the doctor. "I have no objections to Miss DuPre--"

"No, but you don't like her being a werewolf." Antonia's acerbic tone cut him. 

Severus turned away from her, attempting to cover his irritation. "I would appreciate that you not comment on my family's private affairs."

"Well, then, don't bring them up." Antonia scooped the two glasses of tea from the side table, exposing a good deal of leg as her shorts rode up. "Good night."

Severus winced as the door slammed behind him. Insufferable woman and her insufferable meddling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Please take the time to let me know what you think.


	18. Chapter 17

Forgiveness Chapter 17

_It had been three days since he sat outside the Gryffindor common room like a damned fool for hours after Lily had refused his apology. He was destroyed, and he had been his own instrument of that destruction._

_His life had become the library and Slytherin. As he entered the common room just before curfew, he moved through the green and silver furnishings, heedless of the lone occupants of that room. Most did not approve of his parentage and his appearance. He would show them and Lily, too. He would distinguish himself either in the world at large, or within the smaller circle of the Eaters of Death. Lucius might be able to get him admittance and possibly more. The thought only made him want to cry, however. He would sleep before he made his plans. As the thought struck him, a familiar, cultured voice uttered, "Snape."_

_Severus swung around, wand drawn, unwilling to let his guard down lest the dams on his tightly-held tears break, and he make a fool out of himself in front of the former Prefect. "Lucius, what brings you here? Surely the Board of Governors didn't require yours or your father's presence at this late date."_

_"I was waiting for you, Severus." The Malfoy heir patted the seat beside him, his face a mask of cool civility. Severus felt compelled to comply. Abraxas Malfoy was a high-ranking member of the newly dubbed Death Eaters, and Lucius his only friend, it seemed. Lucius handed a small flask to Severus. "I heard about the Mudblood. Good riddance to bad rubbish, I say, my friend."_

_Severus shrugged, his gesture a mute testament to his pain. Lucius waited as the boy drank and then choked on the Firewhisky in the container. "Have you come to gloat, Lucius?"_

_"Never, old boy." Lucius took the flask back, flicking his wand over the lip fastidiously before he drank from it. "I have come to tell you of my impending marriage to one Narcissa Black."_

_"Let's hope she's not as mad as her sisters, Lucius." Severus' tone was dry, but his heart beat bitterly at the news. Lucius, it seemed, would have it all while Severus gleaned the scraps at life's table._

_"That was bad form, old man." Lucius pouted. The expression might have been effective had Severus been female and prepubescent. The dark boy rolled his eyes expressively and Lucius laughed aloud, drawing frowns from younger students who were involved in their studies nearby. "Very well, I shall forgive you, if you will promise to attend the nuptials."_

_"I don't know." Severus took the flask again. "You know Tobias, and his... temper. Mum's been ill."_

_"There are ways, old man, to get what you want. You just need to associate with the right people." Lucius smiled lazily. "Of course, Sevvie, since he is your father, you might want less extreme measures to deal with him than I might recommend."_

_Severus snorted, feeling the alcohol burning in his veins and his mental anguish fade to a manageable throb. "As if they would do anything for you, Lucy. You haven't even deigned to join them."_

_"One should never make assumptions." Lucius bristled. "And don't call me by that disgusting name."_

_"Only if you no longer call me Sevvie... really Lucius, someone might think you were fonder of me than is strictly necessary." Severus sneered and took one more, long draw from the flask. "Show me."_

&*&*&

Severus lingered on Antonia's porch, still reeling from the turn the evening had taken. He turned away from the door when it opened. "Oh, for heaven’s sake, Severus, come in. Let's talk about this."

Antonia held open the screen door in anticipation of his compliance. "Please. I don't want to end the evening like this with you."

The Potions Master entered the room with great reluctance. He stood by the door to the parlour, crossing his arms forbiddingly. "I have nothing to say, Antonia."

"Really?" Antonia brushed past him and sat on the couch. "So, having nothing to say, you decided to lurk on my porch. It is a nice porch, but really not lurk-worthy."

Severus glared at her as she patted the seat next to her. He let his arms fall to his side. "I do admit that I was dissatisfied about certain aspects of the conversation."

"You don't say." Antonia pulled a small, fringed throw pillow into her lap and began running her fingers through the material on the edge nervously. "Please, sit down, Severus. You're making me feel like I'm a student who's in trouble with you glaring down your nose like that."

"Very well, Madam." Severus eased onto the surface she indicated, his back rigid and unbending. 

Antonia took his hand, after prying it from his knee. "Look, Severus, I really like you..."

Severus remained impassive. He had been the recipient of this speech before and knew where it would end. After a few moments of stilted silence, Antonia continued. "You're waiting for me to say 'but', aren't you? Don't deny it. I can see the resignation in your eyes. 

"I wish I knew who convinced you that you weren't worth the effort, Severus. I really do." Antonia drew near him and before Severus could withdraw, she put her arm around him. "Whoever she was didn't have any taste."

Severus relaxed against her heat involuntarily, his expression still impassive, but his heart suddenly beating a rapid tattoo against his ribs. He exerted iron control over his chaotic emotions. "I have no need for your pity, Madam, or your burgeoning romantic feelings for my tortured soul and misunderstood past."

"That's good, because I'm not in the habit of giving pity fucks," Antonia shot back. "And I certainly don't believe you were ever innocent or misunderstood. You're too much of a bastard for anyone to believe that."

"I admire your vocabulary," Severus snarked. "Perhaps you might throw in more blue language to suit your American sense of _savoir vivre_."

Severus stared at the doctor, appalled, as she laughed. "See? That's why I like you. You always know just what to say, and just the way to say it."

Severus felt his lips twitching in answer to her amusement. "You know you are quite mad, don't you?"

"Yes." Antonia smirked. "So, do you want us to continue? Maybe ask me out on a date?"

Severus drew a calming breath through his nose then answered, "Antonia, as much as I desire to continue as we have, I must admit that I am uncomfortable with the situation as it stands."

"In what way, Severus?"

Severus fought the squirming panic that rose at the thought of admitting to weakness. The desire to flee was reflexive as he struggled against any maudlin revelation of his past. Antonia waited, patient and unmoving, her keen, raptor gaze turned away from him. He suspected she knew his difficulty. He stood and strode to the mantle on which sat an elegant, antique timepiece. It appeared to be Muggle-made and of heirloom quality. He placed his hand on the wood below the clock, attempting to steady his quaking limbs. After a few painfully purchased moments, he uttered, "My parents were not the most pleasant people. They fought constantly. I do not wish to engage in that type of behaviour, and I certainly do not want my charges exposed to such negativity. I have already begun to curb my own foul temper around them, but I cannot seem to guard my tongue around you. I have little experience with women, and less with what our relationship might become.

"Should you wish to continue with this, I ask that you refrain from comments about issues with my charges.” Severus leaned toward the clock, engrossed in the works within. “I have been both a professor and mentor. I have moulded a generation of young minds, yet I have no idea what it takes to be a parent. My own parents were...” _nightmares_ his mind supplied. “We had a difficult relationship, to say the very least. I can truthfully say that I learned nothing of caring and...” Severus sneered, “nurturing. They engendered a deep distrust in me of...”

Severus jerked into the mantle as Antonia’s arm encircled his waist. She pressed her face to his back. He trembled as she stroked his belly and chest. “I understand, Severus. And believe me, I have some reservations about Joseph Pony seeing Charmaine, too. Just understand, even though I talk to you about your children, I’m not trying to interfere. You’re doing a bang-up job with them.”

"I shall endeavour not to take your irreverent attitude and managing as criticism," Severus replied as he swivelled in her anchoring arms. “I have deep reservations about my ability to... not harm them in some material way. Thank you, Antonia, for that vote of confidence.”

“You’re welcome, ‘Rus.” She peered up at him with lash-veiled eyes. “Anything else that you want to say?”

Severus placed his hands on her shoulders, his tone solemn. “Three things, Antonia. I would like to speak to your father so that I might respectfully court you...”

“Sure thing. “ Antonia covered a titter as if it were a cough. “And the other two?”

“Upon obtaining your father’s permission, I would be honoured if you would accompany me to the cinema and perhaps dinner.” Severus felt his cheeks heat and twitch upward, the beginnings of an unaccustomed smile. “And, I would prefer that you call me Severus. I have never been one for pet names.”

“There you go again, all Old World and Potion-Mastery on me, just the way I like you.” Antonia burst into peals of laughter. “Okay, Honey, no pet names from me.”

Severus ground his teeth in consternation. He held her away from his body. “You truly are quite impossible.”

&*&*&

_It was the first week of November, and Severus noticed, on his nightly jaunt into hostile territory - formerly known as Dinner in the Great Hall before his induction as Headmaster - that young Malfoy seemed withdrawn. Around him, a sea of Slytherins laughed and talked amongst themselves as if nothing had occurred the previous year. Young Malfoy, though still sneering and superior, picked at his food and if possible, looked worse physically than he did after the Dark Lord gave him the impossible mission to kill Albus._

_Severus-- who battled a constant stress-headache, impending nerve damage and the staff, protected the students from the Carrows and covertly worked against the Dark Lord-- sighed as he realised he had been neglecting his duties to his godson. He would have to find time for the boy. As he received yet another poisonous look from both Trelawney and Minerva, he decided there was no time like the present._

_He made a show of dabbing his mouth with his pristine serviette, the motion ritualised by the fact that he had not touched the food on his plate, and then he rose. One of the Carrows made to follow him, but he stayed them with a motion of his hand and a dark look. It would not do for either of those nasty pieces of work to ascertain the intent of his conversation with his godson. He was convinced, as Albus had been, that the younger Malfoy was still salvageable._

_As he strode past the Slytherin table, truly his only safe option these days, he let his hand fall on Mr. Malfoy's shoulder. "A word, in my office, Mr. Malfoy."_

_"Yes, sir.” Draco slumped slightly as if in defeat, and then rose to follow him._

_They made their way through the nearly empty halls in silence. Draco trailed behind with his head down, and Severus, several times, had to check his desire to pull the boy to his side. It would not do for the Dark Lord's Headmaster to appear to be coddling a child under his care, whether the child was a loyalist or not. Severus muttered the password for his office, an obscure Egyptian potion ingredient that had been inscribed in the Book of the Dead millennia before the Dark Lord or even England existed. Malfoy joined him on the stairs and they entered the office. Malfoy stopped his body relaxing as the two passed the portrait-laden office and entered Severus’ chambers. The dark man ordered, “Sit.”_

_The Malfoy heir complied with bad grace. The extremity of his reaction more a testament to the boy's distress than any disrespect intended. Severus rang for tea and watched the boy as a house elf appeared with a tray. Draco had always had a sweet tooth. As the elf laid delectable petit fours and chocolate biscuits out for the young Slytherin, Snape was interested to note the green shade the boy turned._

_When the elf paused for further instruction from the Headmaster, its insolence barely contained in the twitching of its ears and lack of servility, Snape dismissed it with an impatient flick of his fingers. The elf Disapparated with a loud pop. Cheeky thing. Severus covered his amusement by lifting the prepared cup of tea to his lips._

_Malfoy made no move toward the repast, but instead looked out the window into the dark night. After moments of strained silence, in which Severus hoped to provoke a reaction, the boy muttered, "I hate this."_

_"Indeed, Mr. Malfoy, what is it you hate?" Severus quirked his eyebrow in question and resumed sipping the tea._

_“Father has been unfaithful to Mother.” The boy held his shoulders rigid, as if waiting for a blow. “There was a girl, one that Uncle Rodolphus brought to the Manor... She was there a week because she fought so hard... He... It wasn’t good what he did to her. I saw her being... and then Father struck me and locked me away... and Uncle Rodolphus was screaming later that Father... had...”_

_The boy’s composure broke and he rubbed his eyes with the sleeves of his silk and wool robe. Severus had only seen him lose his haughty composure once since he was a toddler, and that had been after his punishment after they fled Hogwarts last June. The Headmaster waited, willing his fingers to relax as he cleared his mind. He knew the girl. She was currently in hiding in one of the safe houses, awaiting the birth of her child. She had stupidly refused the abortifacients offered her due to her religion’s laws._

_Lucius, Severus suspected, grudgingly admired the girl, even if she were a Muggle, for the fight she had put up in the face of his brother-in-law’s depravity. Severus urged, “Continue, Mr. Malfoy.”_

_“Uncle Rodolphus accused Father of taking the girl for his own pleasure.” Draco reached for his cup of tea and gulped it down. He grimaced as if he wished it were a stronger beverage. “Father did not deny it.”_

_No, Lucius could not deny the accusations, no matter how untrue they were. The older Malfoy had joined Severus in his tightrope walk, both men balancing on the knife’s edge between the side of Light and servitude to Voldemort. Severus cut through the Gordian knot of the boy’s thoughts. “Your father most definitely did not soil himself with one of your uncle’s playthings. Think, Draco. I witnessed your father and mother‘s nuptials. Your grandfather insisted on a Fidelity Charm. You know this.”_

_“Then, what did Father do to her?” Draco demanded, his imperious Malfoy chin lift and cool eye returning. The boy’s world had been shaken, and Severus knew he had to proceed carefully. It would not do for Draco to know his father had defected from the Death Eater ranks, but Severus could not let the boy think Lucius a villain._

_“The matter was taken care of, Mr. Malfoy,” Severus bit out. “Do not enquire further.”_

_The boy’s struggle was written on his face. “Very well, sir. May I be excused?”_

_Severus coolly nodded his assent._

_Damn. Damn. Damn. Lucius would have to be more careful in the future. The boy might cause problems._

&*&*&

Severus flexed his fingers, as Poppy had told him to do, before he went to his bedroom that evening. The pain from the nerve damage had increased steadily over the years. His joints ached constantly and his hands and feet burned more often than not. Severus had hoped the Muggle drugs would help alleviate the worst of it, but so far, there had been no effect. He would discuss the matter with Antonia. A Potions Master without hands was useless.

The door to Joseph Pony’s room was ajar. Raucous, thumping music blared from the CD player, the boy’s prize possession. Severus knocked. “Mr. Red Horse, a word?”

The music volume lowered before the boy opened the door. Joseph Pony jerked his head in assent. “Come on in.”

The older wizard eased into a room that might have been any teenaged male abode at Hogwarts, with a few exceptions. Instead of walls littered with Quidditch posters and school memorabilia, the boy’s walls, now painted a deep crimson, held posters of appalling rock idols and native artefacts. The room was tidy, a thing Severus insisted upon, but still cluttered with the day-to-day flotsam of a young man’s life. It was the first time he had been allowed into Joseph Pony’s room. 

“Look, man, I’m sorry about what I said today,” Joseph Pony began, his eyes averted from Severus. “I talked to Charmaine and she thinks we ought to slow down.”

As soon as the words exited the boy’s mouth, Severus found himself with an armful of teen angst. Gods, he thought these days were over. He let the boy sob out his worries, really a first for Joseph Pony, while Severus muttered nonsense about things being for the best. All of it total tripe, and both of them knew it.

Finally, the emotional storm subsided, and Joseph Pony pulled away from Severus, shame-faced. “Sorry about that, man.”

“Good night, son,” Severus replied, straightening his robes and going to the hallway. “If you have need of me, I’ll be in my room.”

“Thanks, uh, Dad.” The door clicked shut behind Severus, and the music increased in volume.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Please take the time to let me know what you think.


	19. Chapter 18

_There are no war monuments to Spies. Spies were never given a shrine in the ancient style of the Gallic warrior* bent over the mortal wound in his breast, bravely facing his death in the countenance of superior forces and greater aggression. No mounted figure was ever depicted of a Spy in his winking disguise as a dastard._

_No, Spies did not get that treatment. Shadows did not make a pretty picture; they merely lent themselves to the chiaroscuro of the Hero's triumphant emergence in the golden light. The Hero received the monuments, the recognition, and the glorious return of the body on his shield. The Spy, he died in alleyways with a knife in his back, in the corners of dungeons by torture, sometimes by his own hand, but mostly a little at a time, the horrors in which he willingly participated wearing away his psyche like water on sandstone. The Spy's physical death did not matter; he died of the poison of his profession second, by minute, by hour, by day from the moment he assumed the duties. The length of his service was measured in acts of betrayal, treason and brutality all committed in the name of the Greater Good._

_If a Hero's hands were examined, the dark blood on them would be that of his enemy. The Spy's hands contained bright flecks and splotches of the crimson liquid from many donors, most of them innocent._

_The Hero's soul was never in question; he gave the good fight and died, or survived with a few bad dreams. The Spy was assumed not to possess one, and therefore sent out time after time with no regard for it. The Spy, if he returned home, was met with suspicion, hostility and dismissal. The nightmares were debilitating recreations of every horrific event in which he participated._

_No, soulless, cowardly traitors never graced a monument. They were merely discarded after they became immaterial... human flotsam at the foot of the Hero, the crushed skull under the focal figure's heel._

_Severus had realised this early in the game and so erected in his mind his own monument to himself and the others recruited along the way. Lucius was next to him on this dais of his mind, his flowing locks and superior sneer a perfect foil for Severus' shadowy presence in the sculpture, really more a hint of Severus than an image. Weasley was below, seated at their feet. His job had been relatively easy so far, though it was soon going to be much more perilous. Fudge was an utter incompetent, and Scrimgeour too political to take note of a relative nobody - Arthur Weasley's son, prim, priggish Percy who donned his seamless facade each day with the greatest skill and ease. He worked well in that capacity. He had been trained almost from conception by a blustering mother, a weak-willed father and six, barely-tolerable siblings. Even weak Lupin might have a place, though somewhere that Severus would not have to view him, without a doubt._

_Miss Bulstrode, Mr. Zabini, Miss Greengrass, Miss Brown and Mr. Nott were depicted as the infants they were. They really deserved better, but Severus had limited their work to protecting students and guiding the Carrows away from the Heroes. The glory always came back to the Shining Ones, whether they were the Golden Trio living in the wilds, or the Bumbling Trio who remained at Hogwarts._

_There were other Spies, too numerous to depict, too deep undercover to ever emerge safely. Severus would leave them their anonymity, their representation in his monument would be the dais on which the war was won. The base material would be made of subterfuge, intelligence and a cunning bravery disguised as cowardice and wrapped pain._

_He had told the Portrait Albus this philosophy one particularly horrible evening after the Carrows had committed to teaching the fine art of Crucio to the students - the two monsters' wizardly guinea pig of choice, of course, those students hapless enough to serve detention that evening. Even Filch was horrified. Admittedly, his disapprobation stemmed more for the mess the Carrows created for him to clean rather than concern for rule-breakers. The smell of shit, piss and vomit still clung to Severus’ robes. The dark Headmaster was not sure if some of the clinging effluvia were his own or not._

_As the former Slytherin Head spoke, Albus' eyes twinkled gravely. No doubt, the old coot was enjoying Severus in full whinge and without the benefit of alcohol or mind-altering potions, something he was relying on with alarming frequency these days. The bleak dissertation became ridiculous to the dark wizard's own hearing and he ended up laughing until tears ran down his face as Albus dryly reminded his Spy-turned-murderer of just who was dead in the room and by whose hand. Albus had always been able to cut through Severus' darker moods._

_Even as pigment, oil and gesso, the old man was a manipulative cunt while still being entertaining._

&*&*&

Severus awaited Antonia's arrival in the commissary, his breakfast coffee and toast before him. Mari attempted to slide an egg onto his plate, one that he Vanished with a scowl. The creature was beyond irritating as she smiled and completed another stealthy food-related move with a bowl of porridge. Severus fixed the Brownie with a deadly glare, but began eating the oatmeal, sugar and cream concoction, deciding that since the creature had gone to the effort of making it just the way he liked it, he may as well consume it.

He saw Antonia enter the cavernous room and drew out a slim packet from his second-best robes, donned that morning in honour of the visit to Meridian, Stella's school and the solicitor. She waved at him as she approached the table with her customary bagel and coffee. "I see Mari has you eating."

"She doesn't know her place," Severus complained between bites.

"Good." Antonia pinched his ribs through the protective layers of cloth as she slid into the seat beside him. "She's making you gain weight."

Severus sneered his response as he pushed the packet toward Antonia. She placed her hand on his. "Honey, these gifts aren't necessary."

Severus felt his cheeks heat. He whispered fiercely, "Do not call me that imbecilic name."

"Oh?" Antonia's guileless gaze met his as she stroked his fingers. "Would you prefer Darling or Sweetums, maybe? How ‘bout Cutie-pie?"

"I would prefer my given name," Severus snapped and was answered by Antonia's throaty chuckle. He frowned at the gift as he snatched his hand back. "Well, open it."

Antonia slid a blunt-tipped fingernail under the Spellotape and let the plain wrapping fall open. Inside the packet lay a small brooch in the form of a flower made of bone and shell that Severus, himself, had spelled together. Her eyes darted to his. "Severus, you've given me a gift every day this week. You don't have to do this, I'm already impressed."

Severus clicked his tongue on his teeth. "That's hardly likely."

"Severus, quit selling yourself short,” Antonia warned with a whispered hiss. "Now, why all the little gifts? You're making me feel bad that I haven't gotten you anything."

Severus returned his attention to his meal before answering. Cold porridge was disgusting. Antonia bit into her bagel, making a great show of chewing. A bit of the cream cheese stuck to her cheek, marring the milky surface. Severus smirked. "It seems your face wants to eat, also."

"What?" Antonia asked as Severus pantomimed a wiping motion. "Oh, damn."

The doctor pulled a serviette from the dispenser on the table, and then scrubbed at the wrong side. "Did I get it?"

Severus leaned toward her and with a deft flick of his handkerchief, removed the offending clump. "To answer your earlier question, I realise you find my ways antiquated and quaint, but I did tell you I wished to court you. The courting process begins with gifts, and if you accept them, I speak to your parents. Further intimacy occurs after a marriage is contracted and I pay a bride price. To use your Yank vernacular, it's an English thing."

"It's also sexist," Antonia replied with more than a little heat. She ate another bite of her bagel before saying, "I want to court you, too."

Severus snorted. "Women do not court, and if they did, I have no family for you to contact."

"Well, there's Joseph Pony and Stella. If you're thinking about 'contracting a marriage' as you put it, don't they need to be involved?"

Severus winced at her reference to the boy. Joseph Pony's behaviour of the last few days had been challenging and hostile at best. He seemed to be trying to recover from letting Severus see his breakdown. He doubted the boy would respond well to Antonia's reference to Severus as family. "I... Marriage isn't the only aim of courtship... Do not put words in my mouth."

"If I have to get engaged to get - how did you put it? - further intimacy, I think I'll have to speed things along a little bit. You're a sexy beast, Severus, especially when you're being coy." It was Antonia's turn to bestow a smirking countenance upon him. "I think I'll start with the gifts today. I'll find something in Meridian that's not black, not a book, and definitely not what you need. Maybe a leopard print thong would do."

Antonia laughed while Severus scowled, his normally sallow face blazing. "You are impossible."

"Yep, and that's why you like me." Antonia swept Severus with a heated look. "Dig in; we have a lot of things to do today. Shopping for just the right thong takes time."

&*&*&

While Stella and Joseph Pony bought school supplies with the voucher Severus gave them, Antonia and he made their way to the solicitor's office in an unprepossessing storefront on the cracked and dusty Main Street of Meridian. An older woman with pince-nez glasses attached to a chain that hung around her neck, and a high, blue, beehive hairdo greeted them warmly before turning to the door behind her and with a grating twang shouted, "Dicky! Dr. Dance is here with your ten o'clock, that English fella with the immigration problem."

"He'll be right with you," she said in a normal tone as she turned back to the waiting Potions Master. "Just make yourself at home. There's coffee or tea if you want it."

Severus demurred politely and assumed a seat next to Antonia. After a few moments, a short man with pale blue eyes, transparently blond hair, a bit of a gut and a deep tan, entered. Severus thought he looked like a well-cooked mushroom. The man stopped before them. "You must be Mr. Snape. I'm Richard Holman; nice to meet you."

The man gave a sharp bow to Severus, and with a nod to Antonia, he ushered the Potions Master into his office. It was a cosier version of a rat's nest, with oddments and heavy legal tomes gracing almost every surface. Paper and parchment drifted in piles over the dull green carpet of indeterminate age. A heavily overburdened ashtray perched precariously on top of a stack of paperback Louis Lamour novels to the side of the desk, explaining the extremely musty, cigarette-laden funk of the room. Severus had not been able to stand that particular odour since he had given up smoking eleven years ago. Overhead, a squeaking ceiling fan stirred the air just enough to make Severus' eyes water and his nose stuffy. The man leaned back in his seat, his hands crossed over his gut, as he looked Severus over. After a moment of nearly cat-like concentration, the man picked up a quill and said, "So, Mr. Snape, Toni tells me you need to clear up your immigration status and quick. Tell me how you entered the country."

After an hour of consultation, in which questions of Severus' loyalties in the war, his assumed death, subsequent acquittal, and his strange family situation were all discussed in detail, the lawyer -as Severus was reminded he was called - summoned a book and began reading it. Severus shifted uncomfortably as his body began exhibiting the strain of the interview with his customary aches and flares of pain in his back and extremities.

After a few moments of intense searching and even more time spent in frantic scribbling, the man stated, "You're in luck. The immigration laws, after nine-eleven, changed radically for Muggles, but wizarding laws remained relatively untouched due to the influx of Muggleborns after that war of yours."

Severus quirked his eyebrow in interest. The man continued. "We can get you a visa based on your expertise. You do have documentation showing you completed an apprenticeship and your subsequent employment at… Hogwarts?”

"No." Severus drew a long breath, hoping not to sneeze. "My exit from Scotland did not allow me to gather all the pertinent information from my Gringotts vault."

"You have a way to get it? Someone you can trust?" The man's gelid glance returned to the parchment. "We'll need that to begin the paperwork, otherwise... Well, we'll just have to come up with another way. Toni says you're important to her research."

"I have one person I might contact." Severus shuddered to think of approaching Aberforth Dumbledore again, the only person who knew him to be alive in the whole of the UK. Any activity on Snape's behalf might bring unwanted attention from the Ministry. It was a delicate operation, and all that was available to use was a sledgehammer. "I should be able to direct him to my vault. Now, what will be your fee for all this work?"

&*&*&

_Severus knew the consequences of the night's fiasco would be dire. Albus' insane plan to school Potter in Occlumency had not only blown up, but had gone off like a Muggle atomic bomb. He glared at the Pensieve into which the boy had delved as if he had a right to it. It was rather more like rape, Sev, old boy, than right, Lucius' voice said in his mind. Lucky bastard that Snape was, his conscience had the voice of one of the most ruthless men he knew, second only to the Dark Lord. Even after his change of allegiance, Lucius Malfoy was a man no one crossed more than once. Severus let his head sink into his hands as he scrubbed his fingers along his scalp in an attempt to alleviate the pain that was quickly turning to a debilitating cluster headache._

_He should destroy the memories, but was loathe giving up anything he had left of Lily. He had so little, only a few childish mementos gifted over their short idyll of a childhood friendship. He had no photos. His memories were all he had. He drew the Pensieve toward him. As he emptied it, one agonising memory at a time, it struck him anew what Potter had revealed of himself in their lessons._

_Potter, far from being the pampered brat that Severus knew his father to be, was one of a special class in Hogwarts annals, one of the Lost Boys. Surely, there had been others, but none so tied to each other by their shared backgrounds of neglect and abuse as was Tom Riddle, Severus Snape and Harry Potter. Severus supposed Dumbledore would be their Captain Hook, pulling strings to effect the outcome he desired._

_Severus wanted to flinch away from and deny the images of Potter’s life, but could not. He knew Petunia Evans too well to be able to delude himself any longer. The boy's life could have been superimposed on Severus' own, less the beatings, alcoholic parents and of course, the whole taking of the Dark Mark. Tom Riddle's life had been much the same, according to Dumbledore. And Potter carried that dark core that both Severus and Riddle had exploited to their own benefit and damnation. If it were not for the boy's arrogance..._

_Severus smirked at his analysis of the boy. Who, at fifteen, was not arrogant? Who, at that juncture, thought they could not conquer the world single-handedly? Who did not know better than the adults around them did at that age? Severus, if he were honest, would have to say he had been all the things of which he had accused the boy: Arrogant, Dark, Shabby, Undeserving, Unlovely and Unloved. Even now, as Dumbledore used up Severus to defeat Voldemort, he was those epithets and more. Moreover, before Potter was done with his life, he would have one more thing in common with the selfsame Greasy Git. Potter would have to become a murderer or they were all fucked. He hoped the boy was strong enough._

_Severus had not been, and had gone mad for his effort._

_It might have been easier for Snape to maintain his distance with the boy if he did not have those damnable eyes. Every time he saw the boy's hate, he relived the night that Lily had decided he was not worth her time. That had been the night of his own slide into hell; his descent into Darkness so consuming that he could still feel it eating at his soul, festering, even as he tried to make amends for his sins._

_Severus replaced the last memory from the Pensieve and then Vanished the cockroaches and the broken glass before he swept from the room. He wanted... he wanted to…_

He wanted to die.

_He had wished for it after Lily's death, had tried for it the night Voldemort returned, sought it regularly since then... but he always carried on; his duty to Lily's son kept him going. He could only hope that when the war ended he would be dead. There would be no time, then, for self-examination, for recriminations, for condemnation. He would simply die and be cycled through the cosmic meat-grinder. He hoped when his soul returned to earth that he would not discover more duties to fulfil. Otherwise, when he entered Tir Na mBeo, he might opt for a more permanent death, the Celtic equivalent of soul suicide*._

_How many times had he held the vial of poison to his lips, and how many times had he flung it from him, disgusted by his own cowardice? He would do his duty and be rewarded with death... He would claim it as his right, whether in battle, at the hand of a friend or by his own. It was ironic, that thought. His speech to his first years told them that Potions could put a stopper in death, and yet, Severus longed for the self-same Thanatos he said he could stave._

_Damn Potter and his prying. Severus had a job to complete and no time for maudlin self-analysis._

_He entered his chambers, and downed a bottle of Dreamless Sleep, the only way he could attain a state of rest these days. He fell across his monkish cot, still clothed, and he slept; not the restful slumber of the righteous, but the narcotised sleep of the damned._

_Tomorrow was another day._

&*&*&

They found the children outside Miss May’s Robe Emporium. Joseph Pony had been shunted to the side of a group of girls which included a giggling Stella, several of them were giving the older boy flirtatious looks. Joseph Pony looked displeased. Severus could well imagine his own reaction to being amongst such a crush at any age, and he took great satisfaction in stalling Antonia’s progress where he knew his apprentice would see them.

Joseph Pony’s set jaw and narrowed eyes were the only outward sign that the boy had noticed the adults. He said something to Stella and pointed his lips in their direction. Stella turned. “Daddy! Come on guys, I want you to meet him and Dr. Dance. She‘s his girlfriend.”

Twelve sets of knowing eyes settled on Severus and his companion as Severus inclined his head to Joseph Pony and his masterful play. The boy merely sniggered and turned to look in the display window. Stella and her gaggle descended on him. “Daddy, these are the girls in my class this year.”

She ran through names he would never remember, placing them with faces as varied in hue as any class at Hogwarts. All the young teens seemed ill at ease as he greeted them as he would any of his former students, formally and with reserve. Stella pulled him to the shop, her retinue in tow. “Daddy, when Joseph Pony and me went to the school to pick up the supply list, we found out that we’re going to have a formal and all the eighth graders can go.”

“That is interesting, my dear,” Severus replied, sounding stiff to his own ears. “We have much we need to accomplish today; have you bought your books?”

“Yessir. But Daddy...” Stella motioned him to her. He bent, not as much as he would have last year. The girl had grown a bit over the summer. “I wanted to go and try on some dresses with my friends, and Joseph Pony wouldn’t let me. Can you go in with me? We don’t have to buy it yet, but I don’t know what’ll look good. Can you help?”

Severus heard a suppressed snort from Antonia. “My dear, perhaps Antonia might be the best person for that job.”

The doctor stepped forward. “You know, I think it would be a good idea, and then I could shop for that little gift we spoke of this morning, Severus.”

“What gift?” Stella asked as the group entered the shop. Antonia merely smiled as she waved playfully at the two men through the glass door. Severus felt a definite tension headache beginning at the base of his skull.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *For those interested, the sculpture described is a real one. A picture of it can be found on Wikipedia. Just type in Dying Gaul in the search bar. It will take you right to it. It is one of my favorite war sculptures. The pathos is brilliant and the subject is just beautiful.
> 
> **I don’t remember which book I read it in, but Celtic religion, as reconstructed by modern-day Pagans is said to have a doctrine of the transmigration of the soul, and a concept of soul-suicide/death. This reincarnation belief is not to be confused with Eastern philosophies that contain elements of Karma and Dharma. In Celtic reincarnation, the person gets to choose whether to go back to Earth, stay in the Happy Lands or die off completely. There is no learning process but what the person chooses to learn.
> 
> Tir Na mBeo: The land of the Living or the Happy Lands. From Wikipedia’s article on Celtic polytheism.
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks for reading. Please take the time to let me know what you think.


	20. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was beta'ed by Drusilla from Perfect imagination.

Joseph Pony and Severus adjourned to Paschal's Potions Supply and Apothecary, the most highly-recommended shop of that nature in Meridian. The boy's mood, though vastly improved after the mass exit of giggling prepubescent ninnies, was still dark. Severus was thoroughly sick of the attitude.

Severus looked around the well-ordered shop while Joseph Pony sifted through the barrels of the more mundane ingredients as he looked for the choicest elements. Snape watched the boy peripherally with a degree of approval in his choices. The boy carefully tied the bags and turned to the youngish, female clerk, presumably one of the Paschals, who was waiting at the front of the store. As the woman tallied his purchases, she attempted small-talk with a small amount of flirtation. Joseph Pony disregarded her attentions in favour of remaining sullen and uncommunicative, his normal mode of communication for the week.

Severus returned to his search for the _Papaver somniferum_ , the opium poppy, and the _Datura stramonium_ , or common jimsonweed. He had read an interesting article on the addiction to those two controlled substances and the correlation to a loss of magical coordination in Animagus transformations. He had discussed a possible addition of both substances to the Wolfsbane potion with Antonia and Regula. Beatrix had suggested using a charm to infuse the potion with the properties of both plants while ridding the substances of their addictive components. Severus had agreed to the course of action, and now he needed the materials. The jimsonweed, a native plant with hallucinogenic properties in Muggles was strictly controlled and very difficult to obtain, even in the magical world. Of the two _Datura _species that Severus had chosen to work with, this species was the most dangerous. Of course the opium poppy was just as difficult to obtain and dangerous if one was not a Potions Master. Severus spied the whole, dried _Papaver_ plant, and opted for that selection, rather than the bulbous opium-containing ovule available on the next shelf. There were many more potions that required less of the opioids, and Severus thought his apprentice might be interested in making them.__

Once the Potions Master found the crystallised jimsonweed, the only form of the plant safe to handle in a magical potion, he turned his attention to his next few gifts for Antonia. He had decided to gift her with a supply of therapeutic potions from his modified Calming Draught to Pepper Up potion, not commonly used in the States because of the relative cost and unavailability of certain plant substrates. She had commented in one of their nightly discussions that she missed the potion's ease in treating the most common viruses to infect wizards. He obtained the ingredients at a very dear price and made his purchases under Joseph Pony's baleful glare. He planned to dole out the potions for a few weeks, so the money spent would not be too much outside their budget.

As Severus replaced his small stash of personal funds for the gift potions, Joseph Pony made the throat noise that indicated displeasure. "They're coming."

The doctor and Stella stood outside the Potions shop discussing, no doubt, the frocks they had seen. Severus felt his lips curl in a contented smile as Antonia hugged the girl who was staring down the street in the direction from whence they came. 

Antonia was becoming important to Severus in ways he had not been willing to admit even this morning. The very idea that an attractive, intelligent woman would find banter with him amusing was somewhat difficult to accept at first. Lily had been the only other female to find his arid sense of humour even somewhat humorous, and most of the time she had taken him at his word, never considering that beneath Severus' dark, dour exterior, a more relaxed and playful person existed. Of course, his years as a Death Eater, and later a double agent, had killed most of his more lighthearted impulses, but now he caught himself smiling more often, a change from the rictus of a smile he had born under his two masters.

Antonia spied him looking at her through the large, plate-glass window of the shop and she waved, holding up a small, gift-bag. Severus winced. Surely the infernal woman did not go through with her ridiculous plan to get him the abomination they had discussed that morning, and in front of his daughter, no less. The entire point to his courtship of Antonia was to teach the children the necessary moral underpinnings that preserved wizarding society. He would not have them corrupted so that she might have a casual sexual liaison with him and cast him aside when a better candidate came along.

The two entered the shop and Stella approached to hug him around the waist, her normal greeting when returning to his presence. Severus patted her shoulder absently and bestowed to the doctor his most formidable look. "I trust your shopping went well?"

He moved his purchases to his pockets, careful to keep the more volatile jimsonweed in its own compartment. Antonia beamed as she said, "I found the perfect thing for you."

"Joseph Pony will help you fit out your potions kit, if you will excuse me, my dear." Severus let Stella go as he escorted his erstwhile courtier to the exterior of the building. "What were you thinking, purchasing sexual aids in front of the girl?"

Antonia burst into peels of laughter, nearly doubling over with the intensity of her reaction to his query. He pulled her to an alleyway, pinning her against a grafittoed brick wall. "I see nothing amusing about being made to look a fool, Antonia, especially since you saw fit to involve my daughter in your... prank."

The doctor pulled her arm out of his grasp, the humour mixing with growing ire, if Severus could tell from the angry line between her eyebrows. 

"I would never do anything to harm you or your children, Severus Snape. Here."She thrust the bag into his hand. "Open it, so you can see what a jerk you've been."

 

&*&*&

_"Open it, Severus." Molly Weasley pushed a garishly-wrapped package into his hands, no doubt concealing an ever more psychosis-inducing scarf or jumper. He had not even wanted to attend the Yule eve Order meeting. He knew, without the use of one of Sybil's crystal balls, that it would devolve into an excuse for a party even with the Weasley patriarch still recovering from his wounds. He was now confronted with the exact reason for his reticence. He suppressed a sneer, in the face of such a Gryffindor bit of bravado. The older woman smiled warmly as she squeezed his shoulder and then turned to one of the twins who were attempting to sneak one of their experimental creations to Miss Granger. Molly's shrill voice made Severus want to cast a permanent Silencing Charm on her._

_The Mutt entered the room, his contempt of Severus evident in his sneered, "Snivellus."_

_If Severus were a better man, he might have allowed Black's insult to go unheeded and unhexed. He was most definitely not a better man. Severus flicked his wand releasing an unvoiced Stinging Hex. The Mutt grabbed his neck and cursed roundly, bringing a lecture from the Weasley matriarch. Severus smirked as Black cast a glare at him while at the same time trying to placate her fishwife remonstrations._

_Potter entered at that moment, his vacuous expression souring upon seeing Severus' presence. Now the Potions Master's holiday joy was complete. If he were extremely fortunate, he would receive a summons from the Dark Lord and be Cruciated for hours. That torture would be better than the infliction of the Weasley children, the Know-it-all, Potter and the Mutt on his person._

_Albus held court with Alastor Moody, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Nymphadora Tonks, who was the best of the Black progeny: bright enough for Ravenclaw and quite attractive when not playing the clown. She noticed Severus' assessing regard and flushed before turning to greet the Wolf who had entered quietly by the old, servants’ entrance. Severus would put odds that something laid between the two or Severus was not much of a spy._

_Molly returned to his side. "Severus, dear, you haven't opened your gift."_

_"Ah, yes, thank you, Molly." Severus could feel the pained grimace on his face as he flicked a finger through the Spellotape. The package contained a shimmering black scarf, hand-knitted from silk thread. It was embroidered with an ornate silver ‘S’ on each end. Severus touched it reverentially, his rough fingertips catching on the thin silk filaments._

_"I hope you like it, Severus," Molly said, her fingers working against each other to contain her nervous pride. "I knew you wore a great deal of black and when I saw that fingering yarn, it just reminded me of you. I thought it would be warm and still a little elegant for all the meetings you have to attend."_

_Severus felt a rare, genuine smile forming at the thought she had put into a gift for him, Severus Snape, greasy git, former Death Eater, half-blood, bane to all Weasleys save one, apparently. He scowled to cover his weakness and said with his characteristic aloofness, "I shall... put it to good use, Madam."_

_She bestowed a gentle pat on his shoulder. "Fabian was like you, Severus. He was always my favourite."_

_She returned to her duties as a hostess, bustling around the kitchen, giving orders and being generally obstreperous. Severus placed the gift, paper and all, in his cloak and removed himself from the room._

_The next day, at Spinners End, he spent making first-aid potions for sale, setting aside the best of the batch for Molly Weasley. He delivered them by owl with a short note, thanking her for her kindness. He wore the scarf until his final flight from Hogwarts._

&*&*&

Severus held the gift in his hand, a delicate rose quartz carnation fashioned with strangely spoon-like, jade leaves. The creation glistened in the dim light of the alleyway. Antonia said, her humour returning with the bemusement Severus exhibited at the gift, “See? I said nothing black, nothing you need, and not a book.”

“You also said you would purchase a thong,” Severus returned acidly. “I do apologise for taking you at your word.”

“Severus, when I do get you a thong, it won’t be for you to wear.” Antonia pushed her whole body against him, a smile toying on her lips. "Besides, who says I'm not wearing one now?"

Severus felt as if he were choking on his tongue as an image of Antonia in such an outfit, or lack thereof, flooded his mind. He leaned forward wanting very badly to kiss the smile playing about her lips off her face. She exhaled against his cheek; he followed its path back to the source, tasting her lips as if they were a fine elf-made wine. The moment spun out as Antonia's questing fingers stroked through his hair. The strain was unbearable for Severus as his body responded and he moved against her, unheeding of the sight they might be creating. A groan ripped from his throat, as if pulled from his intestines, as her hands drifted to his shoulders then his chest. She lingered over the buttons of his frock-coat as he trailed kisses down her neck.

"I swear to God, your buttons are the sexiest thing about you." Antonia gasped as he nipped at her jaw.

Severus chuckled. "My buttons? Is that a double entendre of which I am unaware?"

Antonia laughed, her signature, throaty sound. "I suppose it could be. They just make me want to unbutton them to get to what you're hiding underneath."

The impact of the words slammed directly to his groin. He wanted this maddening woman and would have her, he vowed. He kissed her forcefully, hoping that the alleyway provided enough concealment for the dark deeds he wanted to do to her. She moved restively against him. "Severus, maybe we should wait."

He growled his answer against her neck as she sighed gustily into his hair. "Oh."

"I found 'em, Joseph Pony." Stella's lyrical laughter shattered the illusion of privacy.

"Shit," Joseph Pony answered, disgust lacing the word, giving it an edge the boy normally reserved for his cousin. "God! Get a room you two. Come on, Stella. We'll be at the creatures shop."

Antonia's shaky laugh brought Severus back to his senses, the ones that had fled upon hearing his daughter. He stepped back pulling his hands through his hair. "I do apologise for my behaviour. You deserve better than this, Antonia."

"You are an exhibitionist at heart, Severus Snape." Antonia righted her blouse before taking his hand. "Don't think you can fool me with your uptight ways."

He laughed aloud, feeling strangely light hearted as they went to meet the children.

&&&

_When Severus was six, his father took him to a circus. It was the one fond memory he had of Tobias Snape. His father had held his hand while they stood in line for the tickets outside the ragged, striped tent. The smell of pachyderm shit and grease from the foods the vendors sold within was always a scent that Severus associated with happiness._

_He had taken Draco at that same age, unbeknownst to his parents, to the London Zoo, hoping to recreate that happiness for the little boy. Draco had whinged about the heat and the smells of the animals throughout the entire trip. Severus had never wanted to hex a child more than at that moment. He whinged for toys that Severus could not afford, he wanted an ice cream, he was thirsty, hungry had to pee-eeee-- the last said with his knees clamped together and his hands firmly embedded in his crotch, much to Severus' dismay. Severus was considering calling it a day in disgust, until they came to the great apes._

_The simian house had never been Severus' favourite. He considered it an Azkaban for Apes. The intelligent beings locked in the cages day after day in unending boredom was depressing to the Potions Master; the distaste, no doubt, a remnant of his months in Azkaban and his childhood. Usually they flung shit or masturbated, depending on their level of boredom. But when Draco entered, something about the boy drew the apes' attention. Draco stood in awe before a Western Lowland Gorilla. The creature's back glinted silver in the dim light of the barred enclosure. Draco's eyes became wide as the creature turned his full regard to the little human. Draco drew closer, almost nose to nose with the creature who sat safely behind the glass. The crested male raised a hand to the boy, as if in greeting. Draco answered in kind._

_After long moments of communion, the ape shifted its gaze to Severus with an assessing intelligence. He blew against the glass, his breath fogging it for a moment before clearing. Magic of a kind Severus had never witnessed before crackled and the boy fell backward, unharmed but breathless nonetheless. The ape turned from them, the moment gone forever. Draco clambered up, his voice made small by the awe he felt as he announced, "He's my friend now. He's the first friend I ever made on my own without father."_

_Severus patted the boy on the shoulder, awed himself by the moment. "I do believe you're correct, young man."_

_Draco took Severus' hand. "I'm glad you took me here, Uncle Severus. Can we ride the tram now?"_

_Severus nodded. There was hope for the spoiled boy after all._

&*&*&

They returned to the compound late in the day. Stella’s school would begin next week and Severus wanted to spend time with her teachers. He had been satisfied with the Defense and Charms Masters but was dissatisfied with the Potions Mistress. She was a befuddled woman of the Trelawney type who seemed to be stuck in the last century for all the information she seemed to lack when Severus quizzed her. He decided he would tutor Stella in the evenings to ensure her progress in the subject.

Severus retired to his lab to put away his purchases, letting the strain of the day fall out of his long limbs as he stretched to place the ingredients in order. He heard the soft snick of the latch to the door opening. He braced himself for another sensory assault by the doctor that never came. He spun around in a heightened state of awareness, his wand drawn. Joseph Pony greeted him softly. “Uncle ‘Rus, sorry to bother you.”

The boy’s diffidence, after his week of sullen immaturity, concerned Severus. Severus lowered his wand slowly. “What is it, Joseph Pony?”

The boy shrugged. “Thought you might need some help settin’ up for tomorrow.”

“Hmph,” Severus replied, turning back to his duties. He had not planned on doing more work than necessary, but decided that talking to his charge was more important.

The boy deftly began arranging the cauldrons to begin his next day’s work on the base for the Wolfsbane as Severus set out the ingredients for the potions. Joseph Pony paused, “Uh, so you and Antonia... you're gettin' serious."

"I should hope so. I am in fact courting her," Severus answered dryly. The two returned to their tasks.

Joseph Pony paused again. "Uncle 'Rus, you know how I told you that Charmaine wanted a break?"

Severus nodded absently.

"Well, that wasn't really the truth," Joseph Pony said. After a long moment of silence, he pronounced heavily, "I think I might be a queer."

"You're attracted to men, are you?" Severus asked with just a hint of irony. "Have you considered Johnson? He's looking for a companion."

"No! Ew!" Joseph Pony reeled as if he had been struck. "I haven't had a crush on any guy. It's just that... Well, Charmaine and me, we tried to... you know... do it, and she started cryin' and then I couldn't... you know... do it."

"Ah, so because you could not commit rape, you are instantly homosexual?" Severus asked, his tone dry but neutral. "It must be since you have absolutely no desire to bed a man. If I understand you correctly."

"Man, don't say it like that. That makes me sound stupid." Joseph Pony glowered. "But I went... I lost my... I couldn't get... hard again after that."

The boy's face flamed as Severus chuckled. "That is a problem that only gets worse as you get older."

"Oh."

"Yes, indeed," Severus returned as he placed the knives he needed on the table. "I think that if every man that had your experience were homosexual, humans might face extinction."

They finished their chores in silence. After they were through, a much-relieved Joseph Pony excused himself. Severus admonished before the door shut, "If things progress, son, please remember the contraceptive charms I taught you."

"God!" Joseph Pony shouted as the door swung shut. Severus merely smiled and went to see the doctor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Please let me know what you think.


	21. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was beta'ed by Drusilla from Perfect Imagination

Severus awoke before the sun rose and knew that the day was going to be a bad one. The harsh feeling of burning flesh that constantly tingled in his extremities was already spreading far up his limbs. He eased himself out of bed, wincing as his feet touched the warm wooden floor. He fumbled in the bedside table for the potions he kept on hand for nausea and pain and downed them in two swift jerks of his head. He followed his treatment with a shot of firewhisky; the spirits aided the rapid distribution of the pain potion. Shuddering against the burn of the alcohol, he waited as the pain dissipated to a manageable level. It was never gone these days, just a dull ache that he could deal with. This sensation, however, was the worst he had felt in years. He thought the rapid change in temperature of the last evening might have something to do with the increase of his symptoms. Oklahoma, in early autumn was apparently unstable. Two nights ago, it had been balmy, almost hot. Last evening, he and the children had huddled under mattresses in the hallway as a cold front moved in rapidly and created the ideal circumstances for a tornado. The greenish-black funnel cloud had passed overhead, skipping over the compound leaving little but wind damage in its wake.

He showered and then went to the kitchen, his movements achingly slow and deliberate. He started the fire under the kettle for his morning tea.

Poppy had warned him about the progression of his symptoms from the excessive amount of _Crucio_ he had received and Severus had chosen to ignore her, as he had disregarded much of her medical advice over the years. He had a job to do and could not shirk it, no matter how painful it became. Therefore, the torture would continue, as the Dark Lord had seemed to want to cure his most brilliant follower of his unfortunate birth. If there were a new curse or variation of a curse to be tested, the resident half-blood, no matter how brilliant and valued, would be the recipient. Most of that had changed with Severus’ murder of Albus, but by then the damage had been done. Each successive curse after that time just picked away at Severus’ health, until during his tenure as Headmaster, Poppy, who had been in on Dumbledore’s plot from the beginning, had said there was nothing more to be done. Eventually Severus would require constant care and be confined to a wheelchair. It was inevitable.

He often thought that if there had been another choice…

Severus cut the thought off brutally. There had been no choice for him since that Halloween night when Lily was murdered. He stopped in mid-stride, waiting for the familiar ache that thoughts of her always brought. It never came and he was shaken to the core. Lily was his reason for living for all those years. He had never abandoned her, not even when she turned from him. He found himself sinking to a chair, shocked as he tried to dredge the feelings of inadequacy and loss up that his iconic version of Lily invoked, but nothing came. It scared him, and Severus had had enough of being frightened and in pain. The kettle began its whistling blare and he stood up unsteadily to take care of it.

Severus saw Stella off to school, masking his pain while he braided her hair. His hands were steady, but he could hear the whisk of his blood in his veins, a throbbing punctuation of each movement. Stella kissed him and then left the cottage for the main building to Floo to school. Severus leaned against the cool pane of glass of the bay window-seat. His hair was limp with sweat and a thin sheen of perspiration covered his face. Joseph Pony came to the door of the parlour. "Hey, Da-- Uh, Uncle 'Rus. I'm gonna to eat in the commissary with Charmaine. You wanna join us?"

Severus shook his head slowly, “No, thank you."

"You better eat, 'cause Antonia'll have both our hides if you've lost weight while she's gone to Chicago. You already look a little pale." Joseph Pony grinned to ameliorate the effects of the words. "How 'bout I bring something to the lab? That way, when Antonia gets back she'll see you've eaten."

"That would be acceptable," Severus answered, his mind on the painful trek to the outbuilding. "Thank you, Joseph Pony."

The boy winked, his teeth flashing white. "You're welcome, Mr. Tuvok."

&*&*&

Later in the morning, after hours of the boy's worried hovering and constant queries after the Potions Master's health, Severus sent Joseph Pony from the lab on the pretext of doing an inventory on his private stock of potions ingredients. Only when the boy had left the room with a great deal of effusive solicitude, did Severus give in to the pain. Between tearing bouts of retching into a rubbish bin, he cursed breathlessly and rocked back and forth. The pain had never been this bad, not without a recent application of the curse that caused it.

He heard the doctor’s tread coming down the hallway and he struggled to sit up. He had hoped he would be over the pain by the time she returned from Chicago. The odour of acid and vomit hung in the air He was sitting upright as the door opened, but was still shaky. “I hope your jaunt was constructive.”

"Oh, it was just great. I had to inform the big guys I had dismissed yet another Potions Master, and hired one on my own. They loved that. Oh, and I had to obliviate the man from HR that hired you. Other than that, everything went well." She answered breezily after kissing him on the cheek.

"You are quite ruthless, Madam," Severus observed, more to fill the void in the conversation than to comment on her lack of compunction about doing dark deeds. She waggled her eyebrows and twisted a pretend handlebar mustache, before shivering in the cool of the room.

“Jesus, it’s cold in here." Antonia laid a cool hand on his neck. "You’re… burning up.”

He pretended interest in the parchments before him. The black words blurred and squiggled on the page. Severus fixed what he hoped was a pleasant expression his face and turned to her with pain-blind eyes. He had done this before and he could do it now, he told himself. He had had years of practice masking the after-effects of torture at Hogwarts in front of preternaturally cruel and observant students, no less. 

She took his face in her hands, turning it toward the light. “How long have you been like this?”

“I…” he began before being hit by a more violent wave of pain. He doubled over with the extremity of it, dry retching over the rubbish bin as he did.

“Jesus. Severus, just sit still. I’m going to do something for your pain.”

Severus felt the first wave of magic wash over his skin and knew the spell she cast was a Dark one. This was followed by a second wave, still Dark, but less so than the one before. As the third spell was incanted, he was blessedly released from his agony and left with the wrung-out feeling of the battle. Antonia moved to his field of returning vision. She pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and wiped at his lips. The cloth came away bloody. He had bitten his tongue. “I can’t leave this set of charms on long. I need you to tell me, on a scale of one to ten, how bad was your pain just now?”

“I‘m fine,” Severus ground out, his voice sludgy in his ears.

Antonia let out a noisy breath in exasperation. “One to ten, Severus. I don’t need your macho bullshit right now... or your English stiff-upper-lip.”

Severus felt his lips twitch in amusement, almost giddy from the relief of the pain. “Fifteen, maybe sixteen. It’s only been this bad once before without the curse.”

“Thank you. Admitting that wasn't so bad, now, was it?" She muttered something that sounded suspiciously like ‘dumb-ass’ under her breath. "Do you think you can stand if I release the charms?”

“They were Dark,” Severus observed as he tried to turn the focus of the conversation from his failings. “The charms.”

Antonia ground her teeth visibly. “Most healing spells are based on Dark ones. They have to be to be so invasive. Can you answer my question, please?”

“No,” Severus said. Antonia frowned, telegraphing her question. Severus felt a wave of amusement well up in him. He breathed out. “I mean: No, I cannot stand if you release the spells.”

&*&*&

_Poppy peered at him over the tray of potions she carried. Her tart presence and curt demeanour was balm to Severus’ already short temper. She treated him as he wished to be treated, no pitying sighs or watery smiles. “What curses this time, Severus?”_

_“The usual... exotic variations. I was fortunate. Oh, and a new one you may not know of. A cutting curse,” Severus answered as he slowly lowered himself to the waiting white-draped bed. “Fucking Potter.”_

_Pomfrey’s cheeks dimpled in consternation as she began divesting Severus of his Death Eater garb and shirt. Her acerbic question rang out in the infirmary, “What has Harry Potter got to do with a new curse that giant horse’s arse used on you, may I ask?”_

_Severus thought that Poppy Pomfrey was either the bravest or stupidest woman in the world, maybe both, to even refer to the Dark Lord in such a manner. That is why he appreciated her on these late-night forays._

_She pulled his shirt up and hissed as she saw the long, red welt that nearly bisected his body. “Don’t worry, I knew the counter curse,” Severus explained. “It just needs an application of tincture of Dittany.”_

_“Is this the same one that was used on Malfoy a few weeks back?” Her sharp eyes darted to his face. She was still angry about Severus’ high-handed refusal of her services on the Slytherin. Severus pressed his lips together. She darted her hand out to his chin. “I’ve known that look since you were a first-year and you came in here after those you fought those boys. Severus Snape, what have you done?”_

_He feigned innocence for a moment but then let his expression harden. “Nothing you need to know, Poppy.”_

_She tsked but said no more as she_ Accio’ed _and then began applying the Dittany in large, cooling swathes across his skin. “Take your potions before I strap you down and bypass that nasty mouth of yours.”_

_Severus downed the contents of the bottles, smacking his lips after each vile tasting concoction. The mediwitch paused in her ministrations to hand him a tumbler filled with Albus's best firewhisky. "Drink."_

_Severus did not have to be told twice. He knocked back a good portion of the amber liquid and settled in for the next few hours, grateful in his own snarky way for Poppy's care._

_"Ah, Poppy, being under your kind auspices reminds me of my own mother's care." He smirked as her back straightened._

_"Don't insult me, Severus," she warned as she plumped his pillows. "Your mother was a nasty piece of work when we went to school, and after as well.”_

_"That she was, Poppy." He took another long draw on the tumbler, letting the burn warm him. As the mediwitch left the room, he thought he might have heard her cursing._

&*&*&

"Are you sure, Severus?" The dull roar of pain gnawing at him like starving Nifflers had muffled Antonia’s voice. He gave a sharp nod and stood, leaning heavily on her much shorter shoulders. "Severus, just let me levitate you to the office."

He gripped her shoulder tighter in response. "I don't want... Joseph Pony..."

"I don't know how he doesn't know you're sick since he's not blind. You're sweating like a pig and white as a sheet." Severus sneered his response. "Okay, so maybe I'll never be a writer with original analogies like that."

They struggled across the compound and into the main building containing the Floo. "Now will you let me?"

Severus nodded and Antonia transfigured a chair into a stretcher. "Lie down and I'll cast a _Somnulus_ Spell. I'm afraid Floo travel will hurt you too much."

Severus began worrying his lip again. He absolutely hated being this far out of control. Antonia squeezed his hand and helped him to the supine position. She gave him a small smile. "You really are impossible, you know?"

"It's my forte." Severus closed his eyes and felt the spell wash over him. Blackness ensued.

&*&*&

He awoke belly down on a soft, Muggle exam table, completely pain free. When he attempted to sit up a soft, a golden hand stopped him. A lightly accented female voice said, "No, Mr. Snape, don't move."

A tiny woman with Asian features and sharp white teeth moved into his field of vision. “I’m Dr. Nguyen. I’ve placed you under a few spells right now, but I’ll need to lift them soon. I have done some diagnostic spells on you and have decided the best course for your treatment is acupuncture. Are you aware of what that entails?”

“Needles,” Severus answered with a shudder. He had hated needles since he had his jabs as a child.

“Yes,” Dr. Nguyen answered as she pulled an example out of her lab coat. “These are special needles, designed to enter the skin without causing pain. I’ll also be administering morphine subcutaneously and casting some spells to regulate your _chi_ flow. You will have to return every week for a month and we’ll see what happens after that. I would like to give you your first treatment now. Do I have your consent?”

“Where is Antonia?”

“I’m right here, Sweetheart,” she answered. She bent to eye-level and gave him the watery smile he so dreaded. She ran a hand through his hair, letting her nails scrape his scalp as she knew he liked. “What do you need?”

Without volition his mouth opened and he uttered, “You.”

“Okay.” Antonia smiled again, stronger this time. “I’ll stay with you. Will you let Doctor Nguyen do her work now?”

Severus gave his silent assent, and the spell was lifted. He kept his black eyes on Antonia’s face. She was his lifeline as the pain ate up his backbone and into his brain. He heard the Asian doctor say, “I’m going to do something to increase your appetite. You're seriously underweight.”

She pulled a small vial from her pocket and filled a syringe with liquid. She pulled his underwear down on his hip. "A little sting and you'll start feeling drowsy; don't fight it."

Severus moaned as the narcotic hit his system and drifted to sleep.

&*&*&

_Severus’ third year began with a trip to the hospital wing rather than the feast in the Great Hall. Lily had left him to his own devices as she skipped off the train with two of her Gryffindor friends. Severus was late changing, and so had gone into the toilet last. He had no desire for the other students to see the mass of bruises covering his legs and up his back. The last week at Spinner’s End had been sheer hell. His father had gone on a bender after losing yet another job and he had taken most of his wrath out on Severus. His mother had failed to intervene, yet again, and so Severus was left to deal inexpertly with his own injuries._

_When he stepped out of the small cubicle, hair carefully slicked back with water, and his face relatively clean, a spell hit him in the chest, knocking him back into the hardwood door of the cubicle. As he struggled to draw a breath into his sore lungs, he attempted to pull his wand from the sleeve of his robes, but it was tangled in the sagging hem of the garment that had come undone. He had meant to repair it after his mother had purchased it in a second-hand shop, but was too busy being used as a punching bag by his father instead._

_He finally drew a shaking breath as his wand came loose. Another spell arced toward him, and he rolled, groaning as his face came in hard contact with the floor. He hissed, “Potter.”_

_“Guess again, Snivellus,” Black said, stepping out from an empty compartment. The Gryffindor cast again, but Severus was quicker with his wand._

_“_ Levicorpus! _” Severus shouted. The force of the spell knocked Black against the side of the car, and Severus ran, afraid he had done some real, punishable damage to the Gryffindor._

_He had made it to the feast, but after several odd looks from the Head table, and fleeting pains that became more insistent as the minutes ticked by, he excused himself._

_Madam Pomfrey appeared to be waiting for him. She ushered him to a clean bed and asked as she lifted his shirt, “Severus Snape, what have you done?”_

_It was always thus with him. He was always accused of being the aggressor. He had thought Madam Pomfrey was different. He pulled his shirt down and stood to run out of the room. She stopped him with a tart, “Sit, young man, or I will put you in a full body-bind.”_

_Severus complied with dragging feet and a heavier heart. Tears of frustration pooled in his eyes, but the mediwitch ignored them. “Was it your father this time, or your mother?”_

_“I was just clumsy.” Severus shrugged out of his shirt._

_"Time and again, it seems," she muttered, then made a clucking sound with her tongue as she ran her hand over his face. “The ones on your face look fresh. Did they all gang up on you this time?”_

_“No.”_

_The mediwitch paused in her inspection. “Well, which one? The Headmaster must be informed before he can put a stop to all this bullying.”_

_“It won’t do any good.” Severus felt his shoulders sag in defeat. Headmaster Dumbledore was most decidedly not going to punish a Gryffindor for picking on a Slytherin. “Please, Madam Pomfrey, it will just cause other problems.”_

_“Well, don’t you go taking care of them yourself.” The witch rubbed some stinky potion over his face. “I won’t stand for you and your friends bullying them either.”_

_“Yes, madam.” Severus closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall. Third year was going to be just smashing. ___

__& *&*&_ _

__Severus drifted in and out of consciousness during the procedure, aware that he clung to Antonia's hand throughout. Dr. Nguyen worked in near silence, punctuating the work she was doing with commentary only when Antonia inquired about a particular point of medical interest. At the end, after removing all the needles, the Asian doctor scratched something on a pad and tore it off with a flourish. "I want you to give him this in four hours. The Apothecary next door carries it."_ _

__Antonia pocketed the paper and then ran her hand over Severus' brow. "Is there anything else I need to do?"_ _

__"He'll need to be monitored tonight. The combination of the morphine, Demerol and the potion might depress his respiration." Dr. Nguyen tore off another sheet. "This is for the Demerol. Two capsules as needed every four to six hours. You know the drill. Make sure he takes it tonight, at least." A third paper was handed off. "This is his standing appointment. Every Friday, noon, if that's not convenient, I'll have to juggle my patients. I haven't seen a case of cursing this severe since Africa. Can you tell me how he got this damage and that Protean Charm on his arm?"_ _

__"I'll let him decide whether he wants to tell you or not," Antonia replied. "We'll make the time work. Thanks, Phuong."_ _

__"Toni, be careful," Nguyen sighed. "He's an awful lot like Thierry."_ _

__Antonia's clothing rustled in the stillness of the room. "In some ways, yeah. In other ways, not at all."_ _

__"Still, he's used a lot of Dark Magic," the Asian doctor observed. “It makes me wonder what he intends with you.”_ _

__Severus drifted off to sleep once more, puzzled by the import of the last words spoken._ _

__& *&*&_ _

__He settled into his bed after Antonia brought him home and expertly stripped him of his clothing over his weary protests. He absolutely hated being drugged like some helpless Muggle. She forced the prescribed potion on him and then the two pills. He was suddenly boneless and nearly pain-free. "I'll be back, Severus, I need to get us something to eat. Will you be okay?"_ _

__He grunted, stoned beyond what he had ever experienced before. She smiled and with a kiss said, "Eloquent as always."_ _

__& *&*&_ _

__Severus woke to gentle pressure on his chest and a numb arm. He struggled to sit but was constrained by the softly snoring body of the sleeping doctor. She snuggled into him and without opening her eyes asked, “You need something? You want some water?"_ _

__What Severus needed was to empty his bladder, but what he wanted he would not dare ask, even with the temptation of her soft curves pressed against him and her alarmingly trusting position in his arms. He feathered a kiss over her hair, messy from sleep. His voice came out a low rumble, "I need the loo."_ _

__Antonia muttered a spell and suddenly the pressure of his bladder lifted. "No walking until morning. Doctor's orders."_ _

__She stretched and he caught a glimpse of pale, freckled belly and white skin. "Do you need some more of the Demerol?"_ _

__"No, my dear,” Severus’ gaze followed her as she arched gracefully to a seated posture._ _

__Antonia leaned against his headboard, letting her hand drift to his hair. "Was that an endearment coming from you?"_ _

__"What is this world coming to?" he chuckled softly, his tone slightly teasing. "I believe it was."_ _

__Antonia settled next to him again. "Severus, when did you want to talk to my father?"_ _

__"Why?" He was suddenly alert._ _

__Antonia began a maddening exploration of his neck with her lips and tongue. She paused only long enough to say, "I'm ready for those _further intimacies_. It's been a long time for me."_ _

__Severus pulled her closer, feeling the rightness of her in his arms, Lily Evans only a soft memory in the dim light of the moon. "I think we can forego that stricture in our arrangement for now, if you're willing.'_ _

__Her only answer was a soft sigh as her hand quested downward. Severus eased into her touches with his own, pulling at her soft night tee, cupping a soft breast, kissing the spot between her neck and her shoulder. She shuddered under his ministrations and as he entered her, she whispered into his ear, "I think I love you, Severus."_ _

__He answered her with his body, unable to dash her burgeoning feelings with his own deficiency. Lily would always be his first love._ _

__Yet, as they reached culmination together, he realised that if he had a first love, he might be able to have a last one. The idea jolted him to a disturbed state of wakefulness as Antonia cuddled into him, her body warm from their activities._ _

__When had he started wanting to live?_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Please take the time to let me know what you think.


	22. Chapter 21

Severus admitted that there were certain social niceties in which he had never indulged. Some were left unattended because he refused to be drawn into meaningless social interaction with abysmally stupid people, others because they were simply wrong on some level, and quite a few because he never had the opportunity in which to partake.

He, for instance, had never spoken in any length to Bellatrix Lestrange. He had never engaged her in conversation over one of the interminable yet elegant dinners at her brother-in-law's house even when seated beside the Dark Lord's favourite sycophant by Narcissa, who took great pleasure in watching his discomfiture. He could not abide the dark lunatic. He had never spoken voluntarily to the odious Umbridge woman or accepted Sybil Trelawney's offer of a nightcap, both of these for obvious reasons. He had never given in to Albus' shy advances when the man was in his cups, although that particular situation only occurred once. Albus had been truly repentant the next morning to the point of bringing Severus a basket of rare and costly potions ingredients along with a shamefaced apology. Severus never mentioned the incident again, but was Slytherin enough to file the Light Lord's actions away for future use if needed.

He had never offered an olive branch to Sirius Black, no matter how much his employer insisted. Although he wished he had taken Lupin's sincere apology when he had the chance during the year they worked together. Lupin had been the only one of the Marauders who might have been an intellectual equal to Severus, no matter how much he doubted the Wolf's sincerity at the time. That was water under the bridge, however, so much spilt milk and other such rot. Severus vaguely recalled seeing the man's name, along with his young wife's, amongst the list of the dead in the newspaper before he tore his eyes down the page to see his own.

As for those opportunities in which he had not engaged because he was not in position, the list was shorter but much more personal in nature. Severus had never had a soft woman's body pressed up against his ready hardness in the morning more than once. He had never been able to slide his length into her and have her gasping in response within moments of his intrusion. He had never looked across a room later in the day and seen that same woman, busy with whatever portion of the project they shared, and know with a certainty born of experiences shared just that morning, that she was his and would welcome his advances once more. He had never shared any part of his solitary life with anyone, not even Lily, until now.

The thought of this new state of interpersonal relations both irritated and intrigued him

It was early Sunday morning, later than Severus usually rose, but still early enough that the mid-November frost littered the ground outside the window in the shower. He leaned under the spray, hot but not painful, letting the water wash the sleep out of his eyes.

Normally, he would prepare a breakfast for Stella and Joseph Pony, but Stella was at something called a "Slumber-Party," - which Antonia informed him would involve no sleeping - and would not return until Monday evening. Joseph Pony was occupied with Miss DuPre for the weekend, with an array of contraceptive potions. Severus felt satisfied that the boy was fully protected from unwanted repercussions.

He and Antonia had their own more daunting plans that day.

He reached for the soap, a yellow bar of Dial that smelled of camphor and perfume. It was a Muggle product, but superior to any wizarding equivalent in its ability to strip the layer of oil off his skin and hair. He lathered and began washing his face, only to feel soap slick hands, not his own, on his torso. He most definitely had never shared a shower with a female before. It was disconcerting, to say the least, to find that the actions of his paramour aroused him almost to aching need immediately.

Antonia maddened him as she slowly washed his torso avoiding the area craving her touch, his lower body already strung tightly from her actions. She asked, "Where's your shampoo?"

He opened his eyes. "Stella and Joseph Pony have some that they use. They are on the cabinet."

He blinked as she left the curtain-enclosed space and returned with the sweet-smelling, honey-coloured variety that Stella preferred. "Get your head wet."

For a moment visions of an entirely inappropriate nature flashed through his mind's eye. Her tart rejoinder to his unvoiced imagery was spoken with a hint of laughter, "The one above your shoulders, Severus.”

"What do you intend to do?" His innate sense of self-preservation would not allow immediate compliance without knowing what lay ahead.

"Just do it," Antonia answered, her unencumbered hand pushing against the flesh of his stomach. He glared at her with his lips compressed into a thin, stubborn line. "I want to wash your hair, d'you mind?"

"You find me unattractive," Severus answered, his eyes narrowing as a feeling of pain roosted like an evil omen on the left side of his chest. “You wish to change me.”

"I'm finding you annoying right now." Antonia returned, and then showed him just how attractive she found him even with his scars, Dark Mark, huge nose and greasy hair.

Severus decided he liked to share his shower.

&*&*&

Later, after dressing with more than normal care in his best clothes, an unrelieved black ensemble with a black shirt, black trousers and an embroidered waistcoat of black thread on black silk, he lastly donned his black frock coat and robes. He ran his hands through his sweet-smelling hair, now soft and not yet greasy, and then retrieved his tie, also black, from the top of the dresser and began tying it in the Windsor knot his mother had shown him as a boy. Antonia entered the room smirking as she saw his apparel. “Do you have a rubber band*?”

Severus looked at her in the mirror. She wore a shade of green that matched the ring of colour on the outer rim of her irises. She looked lovely with her auburn hair against the woollen robes. “Thank you, my dear, I have one.”

“Let me guess, it’s hot pink, right?” Antonia snickered. “Hurry up; they're making lunch for us." She turned as if to leave, but paused. "And, Severus?”

Severus quirked a brow at her, indicating mild irritation. She gave him a dazzling smile. “You look nice.”

He realised as she left the room that he was the one who should have said that to her.

&*&*&

_He sat in the foyer of Malfoy Manor, an ill-featured, sallow little boy of twelve. Lucius Malfoy, ethereally handsome Head Boy with his perfect pedigree and loads of Galleons, had invited Severus to meet his father, Abraxas Malfoy. It was several hours into the visit, and Severus was still sitting on the simple Provencal settee embroidered in silk with Jacobean bird and flower motifs. He scratched his head as, once again, he heard a raised voice issuing from the study. It was Mr. Malfoy with his cold grey-green eyes, steely hair and known Dark associations. Several times in the hours he waited, Severus had heard the unmistakable swish of a cane through the air and then a sharp_ thwack! as it hit bare flesh.

When Severus met him, Mr. Malfoy had been as terrifying as Lucius had described him. Mr. Malfoy had connections to the now defunct Knights of Walpurgis. He was rumoured to carry a mark on his arm that tied him to an even more elite cadre of pure-blood wizarding families who followed the charismatic Lord Voldemort. He had greeted his son with a sneer as the two boys entered a private room at the station with the Malfoy name emblazoned on the frosted glass window. Lucius introduced Severus to the older wizard and Severus bowed with the proper degree of respect, a thing Lucius had drilled him on during their months-long preparations for the young Slytherin’s visit. Lucius kept his face stoicas Mr. Malfoy stared at Severus, his cold eyes running over Severus’ second-hand robes and Reparo’ed _shoes. “_ What _is this?”_

_Lucius’ eyes widened slightly as his father moved Severus’ face with his silver-tipped cane, his disdain of the younger Slytherin evident. “Snape… Your mother is that blood-traitor who married the Muggle. She was a few years behind me. She disgraced the Prince name and Slytherin.”_

_Severus froze, unable to give an answer that would not condemn him in the pure-blood’s eyes. Lucius had not covered this in their contingencies. They had not figured on Abraxas Malfoy knowing the Snape name at all. The older Malfoy whipped his gaze to Lucius. “You thought to foist off a half-blood cur on me, boy? He will be most displeased by your associations.”_

_“No father. Severus is quite good at...”_

_Abraxas flicked his cane from under Severus’ chin to land with a resounding blow on Lucius’ hands. The older boy gave no sign of reaction, though Severus could see what the effort cost him as his lips grew white and his nostrils flared._

_“We shall discuss this at the Manor,” Mr. Malfoy pronounced as he swept from the room without a backward glance at the two boys._

_Now, sitting in the dying light of the day, Severus wished he had never come to this beautiful manor that housed such hatred. If he wanted to be ignored and listen to someone being abusive, mum and dad could do that well and not really make Severus feel all that bad about it. Not much, anyway. He could be with Lily during the day, and they would meet at their special place and he would dream about kissing her at night. If he was at Spinner’s End he would tell himself every morning that today would be the day that he would snog her like he knew some of the older students did in the broom closets and unused classrooms at Hogwarts. He wasn’t sure he would do it well, but Severus knew he was a quick study._

_He closed his eyes, scratchy and tired from the last of the harsh light spilling through the huge windows._

_Sometime later, he jerked from a doze when a pale hand shook him awake. It was Lucius, his eyes red-rimmed and moist-looking. “Come, Severus, let me show you to your room. The house-elves have been instructed to serve tea. Tomorrow I’ll show you around and maybe we can play some Quidditch on the pitch.”_

_The younger Slytherin followed the Head Boy, whose gait was stiff and back held ramrod straight. Severus had walked like that more than a few times himself, and for the same reason. Lucius did not need to tell him not to mention the day’s events. Severus knew._

&*&*&

Severus escorted Antonia to the office Floo so that they might take it to her parents’ house. He repressed the urge to rub his sweaty hands on his trousers. He had not been this nervous since he had asked Lily to Hogsmeade with him in fourth year.

Antonia pointed at a strange owl perched on the owlery. “I wonder who that could be for.”

Severus spared the creature a glance but made no comment. Joseph Pony had been in contact with a cousin in Kansas over the past weeks. Though the boy’s tribe had an aversion to the birds, Severus thought it might still be for him. The younger generation of aborigines was doing away with the prejudices and superstitions of the past.

Once the two entered the building and were standing before the fire, Antonia turned to Severus and straightened his tie. “You’ll do fine. Daddy won’t kill you... much.”

She took his hand in hers as he pronounced their destination.

&*&*&

Severus was tense throughout the dinner. The roast chicken, cooked until the skin was gold and crispy with savoury herbs and spices, tasted like ash to Severus. Bob Dance watched him as he ate, a look of bemusement on his face, while Livia remained the gracious, pureblood hostess. Her cool demeanour eased Severus as much as her husband’s set him on edge. Antonia had grown girlishly loquacious, another matter that caused her father some subdued hilarity. Severus scowled at the woman he intended to court, worried that she might be having second thoughts about the entire situation.

Severus could barely string two words together as the conversation flowed around him. Livia covered Severus’ sudden lack of wit and her own daughter’s nervousness with light and intelligent comments on national politics, art and potions. At some point during the meal, Severus felt Antonia’s hand on his knee. She squeezed it once before removing it to pass a dish of rice pilaf to her father. His confidence returned, but did nothing to allay his nervous anticipation.

Once the eternal meal was over, the two women set about clearing the table while Severus formally, and with great care, requested a meeting with Antonia’s father. Dance said, “Sure, ‘Rus. Come out to the garage, we can talk out there while I change the spark plugs on the car. May as well kill two birds with one stone.”

The mention of death, whether avian or Severus’ own, caused Severus to be glad he had brought his wand.

“Bob,” Livia warned good-naturedly. “The poor man’s nervous enough, without you teasing him.”

The older man slapped Severus’ back, an action that might have proven fatal to his future father-in-law had Severus still been in thrall to the Dark Lord and Albus Dumbledore. “Come on, Snape, we’ll go to the den. Livia hates it.”

Severus followed the man to a comfortable room panelled in dark wood with prints of biplanes in dogfights on the walls, the action caught in the static medium with streaks of colour and white against architectural clouds. Severus admired the skill of the Muggle artist who had given the paintings life. Military memorabilia littered the surfaces of several curios and a bookshelf ran the length of the room. Severus could see all the volumes were military histories spanning from the ancient world to the most recent conflict in Afghanistan and Iraq. He was surprised to see Skeeter’s biography of Albus and another on the rise of Voldemort among the Muggle histories. A large, institutional desk, much like the one in Severus’ office at Hogwarts, housed a cumbersome computer. Bob sat in a worn, wooden chair at the desk and bade Severus to sit on the orange and brown plaid couch. He reached into a drawer in the desk and motioned Severus to close the door to the room. When Severus did with a flick of his wand and a wordless incantation, Dance pulled out a bottle of twelve-year-old scotch and two, thick glasses bearing the likeness of a red-haired Scottish clown named McDonald.

“So, Livia says this is a big deal amongst you folks, you wanting to talk to me.” Dance handed Severus a nearly full glass. Severus sipped the liquid, appreciating its smooth, smoky taste.

“Yes, sir. I have come to request your permission to court your daughter.” Severus swallowed more scotch, letting the warmth spread through him. Fortunately, today he had had little pain and so had not had to take the Muggle drugs that did the most to ease his discomfort.

Dance shook his head, making Severus’ heart plummet. Would he be able to give up his doctor if her father refused? In a life of disappointments, it seemed that this one might be most bitter.

When all seemed lost, Dance gave a soft laugh, breaking the tension building in Severus. “’Rus, I’ve been married to Livia for forty-eight years. In that time, I’ve become used to exploding cauldrons, things flying around me, Curses, Hexes and Jinxes. With my firmly non-magical grasp of science, I’ve had to accept the impossible, the improbable and the outright terrifying. In all those years, I’ve accepted everything about my family’s world.” Dance took a long draw from his tumbler. “I just want to ask you one thing before I give my answer.”

“You may ask anything of me you desire,” Severus answered with an addendum to follow as he held up an elegant hand before Dance could proceed. “I will answer, contingent on three conditions.”

Dance seemed to appreciate Severus’ caution. “I do understand, Snape. You and I were in the same line of work, so to speak. Go ahead, what are your conditions?”

Severus held up one long finger. “That the questions pertain to me personally, not the war, not my activities, nor my involvement with persons who might still be harmed by admission of their true loyalties.”

“Okay, that’s one.”

Another long finger joined the first. “That you do not question me about past relationships. I am a private man.”

“Two.”

A third finger joined the others. “Any information you gain of a sensitive nature, must be kept in the strictest of confidence.”

Dance stuck out his blunt-fingered hand. “Deal.”

Severus took the offered appendage and they shook on it, a type of binding magic between Muggle and wizard. Dance poured a bit more scotch into Severus’ glass and his own before he asked, “Will you accept my daughter like I‘ve accepted Livia and stick with her through good and bad?”

“Yes,” Severus said without having to think. She would be his new duty with obvious benefits.

Dance lifted his glass and drained it. “Drink up, son; we’ve got a Bride Price to negotiate, if Livia told me right.”

In the end, after several hours of negotiations, a pint of liquor between them, and stories involving war, rats and evil men from both of them, Severus came away with a potential bride. Bob Dance would be in receipt of four fainting goats, a miniature donkey - complete with cart and harness - and a case of Ogden’s to be delivered when Livia was not home. The final payment would be due December thirty-first to please two-faced Janus, the god of doorways and change. It was an auspicious date that satisfied Severus immensely. The deal was sealed with a Wizard’s Oath, which Dance could not perceive, but left Severus gasping with the intensity of the ancient magic.

Both men drank one more glass of scotch before repairing to the facilities to take care of rather urgent problems that arose due to the consumption of such a large quantity of liquid on top of a filling meal. Once done, Severus followed tradition and approached his bride, who was eating ice cream in front of the TV with her mother. Livia rose and curtsied to Severus. “Welcome to the family, Mr. Snape. You and your wonderful children will be attending Thanksgiving dinner next week, I hope.”

Severus bowed from his waist. “We shall be honoured, Madam.”

“You wizards are a strange lot,” Bob said from the door. “Kiss the girl. She’s been on pins and needles the whole time we talked, if I know her.”

“Dad!” Antonia objected. “Severus doesn’t want to ...”

Severus pulled her from the divan and kissed her thoroughly as her nearly empty bowl clattered to the floor forgotten. He thanked the gods for all of Dance’s fortifying liquor, or he never would have been able to overcome his reservations about public displays.

When he released Antonia, she wrinkled her nose. “You’ve been in Dad’s scotch.”

Livia huffed, “Bob, you know what the doctor said about drinking... “

&*&*&

They came back to the compound and were greeted by Brick in the main building who tipped his hat at Antonia and handed her an envelope. “Owl came for you.”

“Thanks, Brick.” She took the letter from his hand and read it.

The older man looked at the considerably looser Severus. “Dance got you with that damned scotch, huh?”

“I believe so,” Severus answered affably.

Brick dipped his head once before saying, “Well, I hope things went well for you and Antonia.”

“They did.”

Antonia cursed, crumpling the letter. “Brick, we need another cottage prepared. We’re being given a new study to conduct. They want us to work on Cruciation Psychosis. There‘s a young couple coming from Cameroon, Wednesday.” Antonia referred to the crumpled letter, smoothing it out with a grimace as she looked. “It’s a Mr. and Mrs. Zabini; they were recommended to us by some WHO doctors I worked with there.”

&*&*&

_Lucius tracked Mr. Zabini and his new wife of only hours, Pansy Parkinson, to the outskirts of Beauxbatons where Zabini had expended his last bit of magic to shield his wife from the extended Cursing of her own father. Malfoy sent his Patronus, a weak one with the indistinct form of an arctic fox, to Severus. The Headmaster was in the midst of a midnight conference with Albus when the messenger came with the news._

_Upon his arrival by Portkey, Severus battled both Nott and Parkinson, a feat almost as easy as toying with that fraud, Lockhart, while Lucius secured the girl in a burned-out Abbey a few miles away. Both spies had thought Zabini, with his severed hand and Curse-blasted face, a loss. Once Severus secured the Death Eaters, Obliviated them and set new memories in their dim brains, he turned to the lifeless figure of the child who had fought like a man._

_Had the boy not moved his head, Severus would have left him for dead._

_He brought Zabini to the Abbey, past the room where the new Mrs. Zabini howled in pain and rage, madness settling on her shoulders like a mantle of daggers. Severus did what he could, but the young man’s hand, cursed off with a spell of Severus’ own design, could not be reattached._

_Hours later, with the sun rising weakly through a barren fog, Zabini awoke. His dark eyes pain-filled and feverish, he asked, “Pansy?”_

_The girl howled once again and Zabini smiled as a tear slipped from his eye. “Thank you, sir. I’ll take it from here.”_

_Severus made the boy drink a phial of Dreamless Sleep and watched as he sank into a healing slumber. The Headmaster then Portkeyed back to Hogwarts. It would not do for him to be absent this morning; the Carrows would most certainly make note of the fact. Lucius would be able to care for the children until they were well enough to flee again. Both spies knew their duties, no matter how much those actions might cost them in the long run._

 

End Part II


	23. Chapter 22

Tuesday found Severus almost ill with nervous energy. He was sure the arrival of the Zabinis spelled disaster for his idyll with Antonia and the children. His true face of cruelty and mindless duty would inevitably emerge as the former Slytherins related details about his tenure as Headmaster to all involved. The only bright spot to the whole disaster was that at least it was not Potter come to haunt him with Lily's accusing eyes, his father's smirking face, and his own skewed version of Dumbledore's murder to report.

Severus hid from Antonia most of the day, pretending he was involved in a project when he actually skulked in his lab wishing for the eventful arrival to be put off indefinitely. Brick asked for Joseph Pony's aid in refurbishing the cottage at the edge of the stunted woods that flanked the property. Several times, Severus noted the women of the compound entering the decrepit structure and exiting with excited nods of approval. Even Mari had joined in the spirit of the refurbishment. Severus alone remained unmoved and immovable in his laboratory fortress.

He was terrified of losing everything and he hated that feeling. In his life, he had lost so many people important to him; he did not think he could bear to lose another person because of the truth about Severus Snape.

At teatime, Antonia entered the lab which was stuffy from the day's activities. Severus glared at her as she flicked the windows open with an unvoiced spell. Immediate relief from the bitter fumes of the _Solananum_ under the hood came as a brisk breeze riffled the pages of an open potions text. She returned his scowl with a lifted brow and arms crossed on her chest. "So, d'you have something you want to tell me?"

"Yes, madam, I release you from your contract." He hid behind the curtain of his hair, not anxious to see the relief that would most certainly cross her mobile features. "You no longer have to suffer my company."

Her unexpected laugh brought his gaze sharply to her face. "You are a hoot, you know it, Severus? I take it you know the couple coming tomorrow."

"Yes," Severus replied reluctantly. "I taught them."

Antonia crossed to the workbench, careful not to touch him, but warming Severus with her proximity. "What, did you kick their dog, or try to kill them?"

"I... was not the most pleasant person when I was acquainted with them,” Severus finally responded. "You would not have liked the man that I was."

Antonia gripped her chest in mock horror. "You? No. You're an absolute sweetheart. I don't believe it."

After several moments of Severus' cool regard, Antonia said, "Severus, you know my dad was in the military. You know he fought in the Vietnam War, right?"

Severus nodded curtly as Antonia continued. "What you don't know is that he was an absolute horror when he would come back on leave during the war. He was cold, manipulative, volatile and completely controlling. Momma said she didn't know if they would make it through that time.

“When he came back the final time, his problems really began. He drank too much, wouldn't let Momma get too close to him and had constant flashbacks. Sound familiar?"

Severus made no reply and so Antonia spoke on. "I don't remember much about his early days back, I was too young, but eventually he got better. I asked him a few years ago what it was like doing the things he did. They were brutal acts committed so that many more lives might be saved with the intelligence he gathered. He got this thousand-yard look in his eyes and said one word. 'Hard.' That's all he said.

“I knew he didn't like the man that the war made him, but I wouldn't have him any other way. I love him for all of his past and his future." Antonia ran her index finger over the cool skin of Severus’ left wrist. "Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you?"

Severus inclined his head, a small smirk coming to his mouth. "You love your father?"

"Idiot." Antonia shoved him with her shoulder. "I accept you for who you are, warts and all."

She kissed him on the temple. "Now, we need your help on the cottage, since you know these people."

&*&*&

Severus watched as the younger man helped his wife across the muddy ruts that Brick's pick-up had made in the sparsely-frosted drive of the compound. The girl had not changed that much from the last time the Potions Master had seen her almost six years before. She was still the same blandly-pretty girl with the same black hair and snowy skin of all the Parkinsons. Even her expression, on first glance, could be mistaken for the haughty sneer of her youth. Only when one really looked into the girl's blue eyes could one see the hauteur for what it was: a mad kind of fear, held at bay by strict force of will. The girl's eyes swept the compound and Severus shrank back from her gaze. It would do no one any good for him to show before he had had a chance to speak with the girl's husband.

Zabini had not changed much either from the last time the Potions Master had seen him. Perhaps the boy was broader in the chest, and, of course, the Glamoured Right hand was gone, but Zabini's gaze was as steady as it had ever been. The boy had masterful control, hard won from Severus' Occlumency lessons and the events that shaped his life.

He wondered what Zabini would say to his former Head of House when he finally saw him. Severus could not imagine anything good coming from the boy whose life he so nearly destroyed during the war. If it had not been for Severus' interference, Zabini would have never been in the position to interfere in the Parkinson girl's life. Severus closed his eyes against the pain he felt every time he thought of that period of his life. Damning Albus, the Dark Lord, and himself, he retreated to his lab seeking oblivion until Antonia summoned him for the inevitable collision of his past with his present.

&*&*&

_From the diary of Blaise Zabini: Third Year_

_This is my first entry in this damned journal and I'm writing because I have to. Since they are going to be reading this, I'm just going to be honest. I hate Professor Lupin and Professor Snape. If I knew I wouldn't go to Azkaban, I'd kill them both. Then I would kill HIM. The latest man my mother married. The one that got me in this situation to begin with._

_It all started with that damned Lupin's Boggart lesson. If he hadn't had us do it, he never would have seen what my greatest fear was and I never would have had to let on what my mother's husband made me do this summer holiday. Fuck._

_I'm not a homosexual. I never was attracted to boys. If truth be told, I've tried to keep myself from touching everyone, especially since this year began. I feel dirty and don't want anyone to know it. Pansy knows, I think. She's let me know at the beginning of the term that her home life isn't normal. Not in so many words, but with the way she avoids everyone and masks it with disdain and the way she's helped me by letting me be as shitty to her as I can be and not retaliating with the worst curses she knows. She gives the shittiness right back, so I guess we're helping each other. Maybe I can convince Snape and Lupin I can talk to her..._

_No, that would mean they would find out about her, and I couldn't do that. I may treat her like shite, but it doesn't mean I hate her. I still don't know who makes her give it up, but I suspect it's her father. Her uncle seems a good sort, but you can never tell. Look at my mother's husband. Everyone likes him, the sneaky bastard._

_Okay, so Lupin and his arsed-up lesson. He let the Boggart go and was standing to the side. Everyone snickered as that man my mother married came out of the wardrobe and said, "Blaise, come here, I nee-eed you..."_

_I knew that only Lupin could see that the Boggart had a hard-on. Thank the gods and all the family spirits for that. Lupin stepped forward, got rid of it and then set us to another task. The fucking bastard then came up and told me to see him after class. Pansy knew. She gave Lupin a rude gesture when the Prof turned from me, then made that infuriating smirk at me. I wanted to fucking blast her and snog her at the same time. She makes me mad like that._

_Anyway, when I saw Lupin after class, he just gave me that bland look and called Snape through his office Floo._

_Snape came in with his usual sneer. "What is the matter, Lupin; can't you control a single third-year?"_

_"I believe you need to see something, Severus," Lupin answered evenly. "Mr. Zabini, please release the Boggart."_

_"Are these Gryffindor theatrics quite necessary Lupin?" my Head of House said this as I answered._

_"No fucking way, sir." I knew that my face was red, it was so hot. There was no way I was going to show Snape my weakness. He's Slytherin through and through. He would find some way to blackmail my mother with this._

_Snape folded his arms across his chest, his eyebrow up like he always did when he was irritated. "Language, Mr. Zabini. You will apologise or accept detention with Filch for a month."_

_Lupin said weakly, "Severus, you're being unnecessarily harsh with the boy, given the situation."_

_"I am his Head of House, Lupin. Unlike some, I take my duties seriously." Snape sneered then turned his scowl to me as Lupin winced. Pathetic, that one, if Snape's comment could make him upset. It was no worse than he gave any of us when we overstepped. "Mr. Zabini, we are waiting."_

_"I am sorry, Professor Lupin," I said. "But I won't open the door."_

_It was bad enough that the Gryffindor had seen what I was to my mother's husband. I wouldn't let Snape see me as a whore._

_Snape flicked his wand and the door swung open. At first the Boggart was a red-headed woman, vaguely pretty. Snape paled but directed a_ Riddukulus _at it. It turned to the moon, don't know why it would do that, and Lupin said the same spell then it turned to HIM._

_I froze and the Boggart came to me, its hands stroking its crotch as it crooned what it wanted to do to me. I shrank away waiting for the invasion that would occur... had occurred all summer long. I heard a sob and thought it was from me, but when I looked around, Snape had his eyes covered and Lupin was expelling the Boggart. When Snape finally looked up, his eyes were moist, and his face was grim. "Mr. Zabini, you will go to the hospital wing and await me there. If you do not, I will hunt you down and carry you as I would a child, is that understood?"_

_So, after I left, I guess the two professors talked to each other and came up with this way to torture me. Snape's warded the diary so only he and Lupin can read it and I can't destroy it. They say it's for therapy and for the trial, so I won't have to speak._

_I could tell them that this matter won't ever get to trial once Mother finds out, but it won't do any good. Her husband is as good as dead once they tell her, if he doesn't kill her first like he promised if I told. I just wish it could be me that kills him. I wouldn't resort to potions or poisons. I'd do it with my hands if I were strong enough. I fucking hate everyone so much..._

&*&*&

Zabini stood in the threshold of the Potions lab, swaying as if he had been hit by a curse. Severus straightened his shoulders, willing Antonia to leave before the accusations began flying from the young man's mouth. After a time of tense silence, Zabini moved toward Severus. "Professor..."

The younger man's cool façade crumbled as he touched Severus' face. Tears streamed down his cheeks as Severus let the boy draw him into a rough embrace while saying nonsense about Severus' state of being. "You're alive... I knew it. Gods, why didn't you tell us? Pansy's been sick with worry over you, and I kept telling her... but you're not... Dammit, sir... we've both missed you so much... you'll never know..."

Severus stood stiffly while the boy checked his person over, running hands over Severus' face, nose and neck. "Potter said... you were bitten by Nagini, sir. How did..."

The boy began weeping in earnest, and Severus waved Antonia away. Mr. Zabini would not appreciate an audience for his uncharacteristic breakdown, and as the Potions Master, himself, was near tears, he wanted his betrothed away from the scene of their mutual weakness.

Antonia withdrew from their sight, but Severus was sure she was not far. After what seemed like an eternity, Zabini broke away, more in control of his emotions. The younger man straightened his robes before wiping the telltale moisture from his cheeks. He smiled broadly. "I am sorry, sir, but Pansy will be so happy... She'll say she told me so. She always maintained you were alive."

Severus remained silent, but with a quirk of his brow, caused Zabini to break into nervous laughter. "I have missed that eyebrow, sir."

"Mr. Zabini, you are no longer a student. You may desist in addressing me as 'sir.' And as I am no longer in the teaching profession, do not refer to me as your professor or headmaster." Severus noted Zabini's crestfallen look. "You may call me Snape or Severus."

"Yes, sir... Erm... Severus." The boy's golden-brown eyes flicked to Severus' then returned to the floor. "May I ask you some questions?"

"You may." Severus said in a repressive tone that he might not answer. "Please, I have to secure my work, have a seat and I'll summon tea for us, if that is acceptable?"

"Yes, sir." Zabini paused. "You'll have to give me a few days to get used to calling you by your given name, sir."

The younger man settled on a stool by the granite work surface as Severus Fire-called for tea and biscuits. As he put away the last of the day's labours, Mari came into the room. "Severus has a guest, I see. It's good of you to treat him well."

"Mr. Zabini, this is Mari. She is not a house-elf, she is a burdensome creature called a Brownie, and it would be in your best interest to stay on her good side." Severus took the tray from the creature. "If you don't treat her kind with respect, she will extort gifts from you."

Mari tittered. "Heed him well, English wizard. Severus would owe many gifts to Mari if it weren't for his children."

"Children?" Blaise repeated faintly. "Si-- Severus, _you_ have children now?"

The Potions Master glared irritably at the Brownie. "Mari, haven't you duties to perform elsewhere? Now?"

The Brownie blinked slyly at Zabini. "The Potion Master's bark is worse than his bite."

"Mari." Severus warned and the Brownie blinked out of existence. "Ask your questions, Mr. Zabini. I assure you, I am aware that I owe you some answers."

&*&*&

_From the diary of Blaise Zabini: Sixth Year_

_I finally got what I wanted from Pansy today. She gave me a name. It was her father, all these years, who has been molesting her. He hasn't done full penetration like happened to me, but she's been damaged. She told me all that after another run-in with the Weasel and Granger. She hates them and I can see why._

_Granger accused her of being a whore in that snotty-voiced, middle-class way of hers. Pansy hexed her, a good one, that left the Gryffindor gasping for breath as the Weasel tried to release it. Weasel turned on Pansy and was going to strike her when Professor Snape stopped both of them from doing more harm to Pansy. He sent a_ Patronus _for me, and I made my way out of tutoring as fast as possible without causing the student I was with alarm. Pansy was waiting for me in Professor Snape's office, being dressed down by him, no doubt. He does know what I suspect about her, but he tells me we can't have anarchy in the school especially between Gryffindors and Slytherins. Then he always says what the stupid Sorting Hat said at the beginning of term. House unity and all that shite._

_Anyway, I collected Pansy from his office and took her to the Astronomy Tower with a pass from Snape. He told me softly, "Take as long as you need, Mr. Zabini."_

_So, Pansy, who everyone assumes has been shagging Draco, ended up on the Astronomy Tower in my arms, sobbing her eyes out as she told me just how many years she had been molested by her father and in what ways. It was draining for both of us, and after she had said her piece, I kissed her. I have always wanted to, but the lies that we told always seemed to stand between us._

_Her kiss was sweet, but tinged with salt from both our tears. It was then that I promised myself that Pansy would never have to worry about him again. I would make sure when we turned seventeen, that she would be mine. I just hoped she would agree._

_After we kissed and petted for a little while, she said something I wasn't prepared for. "Blaise, Snape really is on their side, isn't he?"_

_I couldn't let her know for all our sakes, that he was indeed, a spy. I had known since he had made me one, too. Pansy pouted for a moment when I didn't answer, but said, "It's all right, really, as long as he doesn't try to get any of us to join him. Father would kill me if I didn't... Never mind."_

_"Do you want to join Him?" I asked, not really wanting to hear what she said._

_Pansy snorted. "Do you think I have a choice?"_

_After a few moments she said, "I fancy him, you know."_

_"Snape?" I choked out. I had heard several girls talking of him in the common room, but I never thought Pansy would be one. "He's so... plain."_

_"Yes, but there's just something about him..." Pansy laughed. "If I thought he wouldn't kill me, I'd try to be with him. He could protect me."_

_"So can I, Pansy," I said against her hair. "I will, if you let me."_

_We kissed some more and then when the sun finally set, I took her back to the common room. It was the first time I really felt that the war was real._

&*&*&

"Sir, why did you not come back for the trial?" Zabini said as he snagged a biscuit and dunked it in his tea. It was a disgusting habit his mother had never been able to break. Severus had heard of it in great detail at one of Narcissa's interminable dinner parties. Zabini smiled sheepishly as Severus scowled at him. "I know, but Pansy likes it when I do it. She says it makes me appear boyish."

"I never knew she had a prediliction for six year olds," Severus answered. "I did not return for many reasons. At first I thought the hearing might be a ploy, and then I had... other obligations that kept me."

"A family?" Zabini dunked again, spilling crumbs as he did. "You found a wife that was good enough for you?"

Severus blanched. "I found the family first. I am the guardian of a young girl and her cousin."

Zabini's brows shot up. "You have found a woman, sir?"

"That, Mr. Zabini is beyond the scope of our conversation," Severus answered levelly, as he attempted to keep the heat creeping up his neck off his face.

"It's Doctor Dance, isn't it?" Zabini's delighted laugh brought Severus to his feet. "We never thought any woman would be good enough for you, sir. She's lovely."

"Thank you," Severus answered through stiff lips. "I would appreciate if you would be circumspect about my actions during the war. The children know nothing of what I was."

"They should." Zabini dunked again, this time dripping tea on his lap as he brought the biscuit to his lips. "You never received the respect you should have, sir, and I, for one, honour what you sacrificed for us."

Severus could formulate no answer as Zabini leaned in and touched the older wizard's hand. "Whatever you wish, sir. I owe you my silence and my life, if not more."


	24. Chapter 23

Zabini joined Severus and Joseph Pony most days for brewing. He was a dab hand at potions, and had always been so as far back as Severus remembered. For some reason, the young man had decided on defence as his field of expertise. He had studied three years in China before turning his attention to the embattled nations in Africa. Along the way, he and his wife had become Buddhists. Their religious practices fascinated Joseph Pony and the boy had even joined their morning meditations along with Miss DuPre. Severus noted certain serenity in the couples after their devotions and envied them their calm. He would never be able to believe in anything bigger than him, not after his Death Eater days. It seemed somehow dangerous for Severus to want what they had.

Pansy accompanied Severus to his weekly appointments with Dr. Nguyen. The girl was responding well to the acupuncture treatments physically and her depression seemed to be easing. Antonia was treating her psychosis with an array of Muggle medications and specialised potions that she had developed for use in mental patients during her time in Africa. Both of these treatments seemed less than effective, although the girl's screams no longer woke the compound most nights.

Zabini and Joseph Pony were late on this day, and Severus wondered what the two had been doing. The younger man seemed to like and respect Zabini. The aura of respect had extended to his relationship with Severus. The boy called Severus 'Dad' more often than 'Mr. Tuvok' now, and had come to him for advice on more than one occasion. The relationship between the Potions Master and the apprentice was still fragile, but the respect and affection was growing. Severus grimaced. He had never been one to dwell on maudlin sentiments, but it seemed he could not escape it while firmly ensconced within a family.

The door to the lab opened. "Damn, you're already here."

Joseph Pony's black eyes swept the room, before he shrugged and Levitated a small pine tree through the door, followed by Zabini.

Severus stepped away from the granite table. "Gentlemen, what is this?"

His apprentice smiled, his teeth flashing brightly in the early morning light. "We were gonna surprise you with a Christmas tree."

It was exactly a fortnight since Thanksgiving. Severus was aware of the American habit of decorating for Yule far in advance of the actual holiday. "It is too early to inflict those baubles on me. The tree will die."

Joseph Pony's ready smile faltered. Again, Severus was in the unenviable position of disappointing the boy. The Potions Master relaxed his stern demeanour. "Put it over there, out of the way. If it begins to shed you will have to take it elsewhere."

"It's all right, J. It just means he can help us water it." Zabini laughed as he slapped the boy on the back. "Severus, please step over and help us decorate it," and then to Joseph Pony, "My old professor is known for his love of decorating Christmas trees. He's a legend."

Severus quelled the desire to hex his former student as Joseph Pony turned a sceptical eye to Zabini. "Really? 'Cause we had to practically put him in a Body Bind when Nana asked him to decorate a tree for Christmas, he was runnin' away so fast."

"Oh, yes, he loves rose bushes too." Zabini's voice broke over the last impossible lie. "Sorry, Severus, but you are such a curmudgeon when it comes to Yule."

The two younger wizards set up the tree in an uncluttered corner of the lab, before Joseph Pony turned his attention to Severus. "Why is that? I thought everyone liked Christmas."

&*&*&

_From the Diary of Blaise Zabini: Fourth Year_

_I don't know what happened with Professor Snape tonight, but it must have been bad. I've never seen him so angry, not even when Longbottom exploded his cauldron and it flew through the magical window. Professor Snape was at the Yule Ball and eyeing Professor Burbage--who would have thought that he had it in him? Even Draco noticed, the twat, when he wasn't trying to feel Pansy's breasts or ogle Granger. Damned Malfoy had asked Pansy to go to the dance before I got up the nerve to, and so I had to watch him dance with her all night while I tried to act happy with that twit, Daphne Greengrass. Anyway, one minute, Professor Snape was talking to Professor Dumbledore and then suddenly, he was gone._

_I followed him to where I thought he might have gone, and he was there in Professor Sprout's rose garden, blasting the blooms off the magically-blooming roses. I think he saw me, but said nothing as he stalked back into the Great Hall, his expression still black._

_The next morning I looked all over for him. I had a problem with the essay he assigned for Potions. I finally found him in his office, still in the dark mood he had been in the night before, but maybe not as bad. He was reading some Potions journal and taking notes._

_I knocked, hating to disturb him. He's not the most approachable man when he's angry, but he answered in his usual way. "Enter."_

_"Sir, I was wondering..."_

_A look of pain crossed his face, only for an instant, but it lingered around his mouth and his eyes. "Out with it, Mr. Zabini. I am busy."_

_I ran through the problem I was having and he finally cut me off. "Oh, for Merlin's sake, boy, don't most students skive off at Yule?"_

_"I wouldn't know sir; Mother is Muslim and I'm not anything." He gave me that eyebrow move that he reserves mostly for Gryffindors and the hopelessly stupid. "I'm sorry to bother you, sir. I'll take my leave."_

_He pushed away from his desk and stood before a magicked window, his hands behind his back. "Mr. Zabini, the time to put your training to use will come soon. Do you believe you and Miss Bulstrode are ready?"_

_"Yes, sir," I answered; not at all sure I was up to spying on my House. "Sir, if I might ask... How do you know?"_

_I saw him rubbing his left arm with his other hand. Every Slytherin had seen that gesture at least once in their life from a family member or friend of the family. It was true then, Snape bore the Dark Mark as Draco had said. I looked away, unsure of what to say to a man who obviously had regrets about his actions. I suppose we all do. I still wish I could have been the one to kill my stepfather._

_"We are entering dark times, Mr. Zabini." Snape said, his breath frosting the magical glass of the window. "You must prepare to make a choice which will affect the rest of your life."_

_As I watched his jaws work, I got the feeling that he wished to never have to say those words. I answered, "I've made my choice, sir... I am on your side."_

_Snape turned to me with an almost predatory gleam in his eye. "I shall expect you and Miss Bulstrode two evenings a week after term begins, we shall see just how prepared you both are. That will be all, Mr. Zabini."_

_I bowed and left, only later realising he had never answered my question about the Potions essay._

&*&*&

Antonia affixed the boutonnière onto Severus' lapel, a hint of a smile on her face. Severus was well aware that the woman and Mrs. Zabini had spent hours in conference with his daughter, who, by the way, would not let him see her gown before it was time to leave. He just hoped Antonia had chosen an age-appropriate dress for his daughter. He would not relish the idea of fending off young swains sure to gather around Stella while he attempted to chaperon the teeming masses of students at her school during the Christmas formal.

"Come on, Severus, it won't be so bad," Antonia said as she leaned up for a kiss.

After the most minimal contact, Severus broke away to straighten his tie. "Tell me again, why I volunteered to watch my daughter being ogled by spotted-skinned dunderheads? One would think I am being punished."

"You know why." Antonia adjusted the low-cut bodice of her gown, giving Severus a full view of her cleavage and more. "Stella asked you to. She wants to show you off, Severus."

He quirked his lips into his customary frown and began tying his hair back with the elastic band which Antonia had provided. He looked at himself sceptically in the mirror over his dresser. He should have never let Antonia pick his dress-robes. He felt like a ridiculous berk in the dark-blue velvet outer-robes and the floral brocade waistcoat. He looked as if he had stepped out of Malfoy's closet. All he needed to complete the image was a cane and angelic looks. Severus rolled his shoulders. Sometimes he did miss the poncy bastard and wished he could have contacted him before he left. No doubt Lucius was holed up in Malfoy Manor with his perfect wife and son trying to seize on stratagems that would allow him to take over the world. Surely he and Narcissa were out of Azkaban by now. A sudden longing to see his old friend struck him.

Antonia saw the scowl on his face and wrapped her shawl-covered arms around his waist. "Honey, you look great."

Severus picked up the orchid corsage he had purchased for her and pinned it to the strap of her soft-purple gown. If colour were in a potion, Severus could have identified the exact shade, and still not be able to put it into words. He supposed Lucius would have given the colour a name like lilac or lavender. Whatever the tone, she looked lovely. He whispered the sentiment in her ear and was satisfied to see the goose-bumps raised with the tickle of his breath on her skin. It made him feel powerful to know he had that instant an effect on his lover.

He lowered his lips to hers, drawing in her essence with each breath as she deepened the kiss with her lapping tongue and guttural sighs. They did not break contact until the door swung open and Joseph Pony stuck his head through the opening.

"Ew! Old people foreplay! Dad, Stella wants you to come out and see her now. Pansy has finished her hair." The last bit of the speech was said as Joseph Pony shielded his eyes from the apparent traumatising effects of seeing Severus in an amorous context.

Severus straightened his robes and eased away from the doctor. "We shall be there momentarily."

"Well, hurry up. We want pictures," Joseph Pony said as he left the room.

"Just think how bad it will be when we have kids," Antonia observed as she straightened her perfect hair.

Severus paused as if stricken dumb. The doctor turned to him in concern. "What is it, sweetheart? Are you in pain? Do you need Demerol?"

"You would... consider having my child?" His chest tightened in a mixture of anxiety and fluttering anticipation.

The doctor looked at him oddly, with her probing avian gaze. "Of course. Don't you want children?"

&*&*&

_Severus and Lily walked the edged of the Forbidden Forest, a thing they had done every year since they had started school four years ago. Lily scanned the ground for likely potions ingredients and Severus watched the light play on her hair against the backdrop of the turning autumn foliage. He realised, too late, that Lily had asked him a question. "Sev, are you even listening to me?"_

_"'Course, I just got distracted by a noise. We're too close to the Forest," Severus stated to cover his embarrassing lapse of concentration. "What did you ask me?"_

_"How many children do you want? I want one or two," Lily answered, stopping to pick an odd-looking mushroom. "Useful or no?"_

_"Yes." Severus plucked it from her fingers and placed it in a compartment in their collection pouch. He liked that they could understand each other without too many words spoken. In his life, he had learned that words could be very dangerous._

_Lily stopped as he strode onto the next likely spot. "Sev, you never answered my question."_

_"Aw, Lily." He turned back to her. "I dunno. A half-dozen maybe. I always wanted to be in a big family."_

_Perhaps if he were, his father would have someone else to pick at once in a while._

_Lily laughed the sound like silver bells in the cool air. "Six! From one woman?"_

_Severus turned from her, not willing to let her see his longing as he said, "There is only one woman for me, to be sure."_

_"Sev, you're such a silly romantic." Lily caught up with him and took his hand, a gesture that meant less to her than it did to him. "Of course you'll have acres of women lining up to be with you. You're brilliant."_

_He led her to the next spot, content for the moment with her friendship, but one day, he would make her his own. Who needed acres of women when he was in the company of the only one he would ever want?_

&*&*&

"Six," Severus heard himself say.

Antonia straightened her shoulders. "Well, we'll have to get right on that."

"I meant... It's almost six. We need to be on our way." He wanted to kick himself for the obvious lie. "I wouldn't want to burden you..." Antonia frowned and so he continued. "Parenthood would be acceptable with you?"

Antonia merely watched his verbal battle with himself before she said, "I love you, Severus."

"Bloody hell," Severus answered. "Antonia... I..."

Antonia held up her hand to silence him as her head tilted, her bird-bright eyes shining with mirth and something else which Severus could not define. "Do you want to know why?"

Severus pulled on his gloves, avoiding her sharp raptor's gaze. "Why do you think your obsession with me is love, Antonia?"

"Because you're you." She held out his cloak. "Now, let's go see the unveiling. Stella has been looking forward to it all day."

He followed Antonia, his tread both light and leaden as her words echoed in his head.

_I love you... Because you're you._

_Because you're you..._

_I love you..._

Stella stood in the middle of the parlour, dressed in a red plaid gown that fell within Severus' idea of appropriate attire. Pansy stood behind the girl putting the finishing touches on the girl's hair as the older witch sang a breathy version of a nonsense song that had been popular with the students during fourth year. Madam Zabini's eyes lit expectantly as Severus approached. "Severus, your daughter is so beautiful. Say something."

Severus repressed a growl and instead, bowed to Stella. "You look lovely, my dear."

Stella approached him shyly, and with a hug, replied, "So do you, Daddy."

Pansy sniffed then began singing again, her voice high and sweet in the warm silence of the room.

Severus took both of his dates' hands. "Shall we?"

"Yes, it's almost six," Antonia chirped. "We don't want to be late."

Joseph Pony consulted the mantle clock. "It's a quarter-past seven. I thought the dance started at eight."

Severus blushed as Antonia replied in mock consternation, "Oh, dear lord, how could it have gotten so late? It was almost six not even ten minutes ago."

"Shut it, my dear." Severus felt his cheeks heat as the incorrigible woman's laugh rang out in the room. Joseph Pony and Stella both shrugged at the obvious inside joke between the two adults. "Or I shall make you pay."

Antonia answered, he voice pitched low for his hearing only. "I look forward to it, Honey."

&*&*&

 

_From the Diary of Blaise Zabini: Sixth Year._

_I attended the Headmaster's funeral today. Bulstrode and I were the only Slytherins in attendance besides that waste of space, Slughorn. We stayed at the back, knowing our House was not exactly welcome._

_You told us to expect changes in the future, we just never expected this._

_Gods, sir. What were you thinking when you killed him? Was it for Draco as Greg said? I wish I could talk to you, but you're no doubt kissing the bastard's arse, trying to save Malfoy from death or worse._

_Fuck. Good or bad, Millie and I have thrown our fate in with yours._

_I woke last night from a dream about you. You told me all would be clear in the end, and to never doubt your teachings on the futility of locking ourselves away from the Muggle-borns of the world. I hope that's true. I don't now and never have believed in pure-blood supremacy. It smacks too much of Muggle colonial history and that Austrian fellow that followed Grindelwald's example. Perhaps if you, and mother separately, had never made me read all those Muggle histories, I wouldn't understand half so much, but I can't close my eyes to the fact that He-Who-Is-Inane is just another aspirant in a long line of tin-pot tyrants, both Muggle and wizard._

_Could you really be following Him? Are you playing both ends towards the middle? Are you really on the side of the Order or your own? I just don't know. I wish you were here to reassure me, tell me what to do. I wish you hadn't killed the Headmaster. Not that I have any special feelings for him, (he never did anything for us Slytherins) but that action took you away from me._

_Sir, since I know you'll never read this, I will finally say my thoughts. I wish you could have been my father. (No, I don't wish you dead. I know how Mother obtains her wealth.) I just wish things had been normal and I could have had you when I needed you. You would have never molested me. You have always been someone I could trust. At the risk of sounding like a maudlin Hufflepuff, or heaven forbid a bleeding heart Gryffindor, I admire you, as much as anyone can admire your prickly disposition and snarky ways. I hope one day I'll be able to let you know how much you've meant to me..._

_Shite. Now that I'm over blubbering like a baby, I'll pray to gods of this land, the spirits of my ancestors, hell, even to Allah and that Christian blood-god. I hope the best for you. Perhaps I'll see you, sir. Until then, take care._

&*&*&

 

It had taken exactly an hour of loud music, youthfully-frenetic gyrations and giggling introductions to most of Stella's female classmates for a headache to lodge at the base of Severus' skull. Antonia was occupied with the Principal the school, a woman in her late fifties that could have been a doppelganger of Minerva, without the tartan and the strained expression he had last seen on the Gryffindor Head's face. Severus decided to remain where he was, concealed almost innocuously behind a banner for something called the Pep Squad. Good lord, he hoped that organization was nothing like the Inquisitorial Squad. If so, he would be having a stern talk with the Headmistress of this academy quite soon.

Severus leaned back in his chair, feeling just as out of place and irritable as if he were at Hogwarts in an official capacity. He had decided on this vantage because he could see the entire dance floor, converted from the facility's gymnasium, and would know if Stella ever deigned to dance with the young man that had dogged her steps all evening. Stella had introduced him as Jerry Ben or Johnny Dwayne... Perhaps that had been the other tow-headed youth with which she seemed quite taken; the one who was even now, trying to avoid her.

A blessed lull came in the music just as Antonia returned from a trip to the discographer's booth. The dulcet tones of a song started with horns and then a soulful singer began crooning. Antonia pulled on his hand. "Come on, Severus, dance. It's Al Green. No one can resist him."

Severus noted with some disdain, the faculty members joining a small group of students who were moving to the music, feet shuffling, and bodies pressed together. He stood in a smooth motion, "Very well, my dear. I hope you can keep up."

Years of Malfoy's influence and tutelage came to the fore as he brought Antonia's body flush with his. During the course of the song, she followed his steps with ease, letting him guide her through the movements of the waltz with graceful fluidity. Severus found that he was enjoying himself and as the music spun on, he caught himself smiling down on his diminutive partner. She said over the music, "You should smile more often."

"I shall endeavour to do so." As the music came to an end, he gave a courtly bow and led her off the floor. "If you'll excuse me, I think I must now attempt to dance with my daughter."

He approached Stella as a more up-tempo song started. "May I have the next dance, Stella?"

The mass of twittering females surrounding his daughter parted, all with expressions of the sickening sentimental variety. Stella put her gloved hand in his and followed him to the dance floor. He led her through the steps of the dance they had practiced together. At the end of the song, Severus gave her the same courtly bow he had given Antonia and led her from the dance floor. He deposited her with her friends who were wearing nearly identical expressions of star-struck awe. As Severus moved away, he heard a girl say, rather too loudly, "Stella, your dad's hot."

Severus beat a hasty retreat as his face burned. He joined Antonia in his niche, still discommoded by the comment.

"What is it, Severus?" Antonia asked. "You look like something horrible happened."

She took his hand and Severus immediately felt more at ease. "I am, according to the little blonde baggage next to Stella, hot."

Antonia tittered. "Thank God, I was beginning to think I was the only one who would tell you. You're not considering younger women now that you know are you?"

"Insufferable bit of fluff," Severus answered, pulling her closer. Again he was struck by the words she had spoken earlier in the evening. "Antonia, I wanted to address what you told me earlier."

His doctor settled next to him, her expression unreadable, but relaxed. "You don't have to make a declaration just because I said something about how I feel for you."

"I feel the need to explain... my lack of response." Severus shifted. "I was... am... I have the deepest admiration and affection for you. I do not know if that translates to a kind of love, but I am willing to... "

"Hush, Severus." Antonia pulled away from him to peer into his eyes. "I don't know why you're so closed off, but you are. I don't need to hear words from you. Every time we make love, every time we fight and make up, even every time you make me laugh... I know how you feel. You show me daily. You don't need words to tell me. I've had the words, and believe me, they are overrated. Your actions tell me everything I need to know about you."

They both fell silent as Severus digested her words, more unsettled by her acceptance of his lack of response than he was by her protestations of love. "You deserve better than some broken man who may never be able sort through his emotions, Antonia."

"And you need to tell that inner voice to shut the hell up," Antonia snapped. "You know, the one who always tells you that you're not good-looking enough, smart enough or good enough to be happy? Whose voice is it, anyway?"

 

&*&*&

 

_"Tobias Snape, Potter, Black, Lily Evans, the Old Fool-- take your pick, Severus, old man." Lucius' voice echoed through the dungeon classroom as he lounged in a student chair, his booted feet atop a desk. "You've got so many people telling you that you aren't good enough. When are you going to stop listening to them and listen to yourself? I don't know when you're going to stop paying for the sins you're trying to expiate, but someday, you'll have to quit running from who you are and accept that you are simply a man with feet of clay, just like the rest of us."_

_Severus paused, the vials in his hands clinking together in the silence. "Leave off, Lucius. You know nothing of what I've done."_

_"You're right, Severus. I am not a Death Eater. I have not taken part in the same acts you have. I have not turned my back on that same organisation to spy in its ranks. I did not endanger the life of an eleven-year-old Weasley to effect vengeance on a girl of twelve.” Lucius flicked his fingers in an impatient gesture. "I, my dear boy, am perfect, unlike you."_

_"You know nothing, Lucius," Severus reiterated. "Don't you have some Muggles to terrify for the Dark Lord?"_

_"Perhaps the Mudblood was right then, Sev." Lucius jerked his frame upright, his hair gleaming silver, his expression stone._

_Severus pulled his wand and through gritted teeth said, "Don't use that disgusting term."_

_Lucius eyes widened in comprehension. "It was her... You wanted to save her, and when that didn't happen... Oh, Severus, we're not so far apart as I once thought. My apologies. Continue your self-flagellation; one day you'll find the futility in the gesture. I just hope it won't be too late."_

_Lucius bowed and strode from the room, leaving a shaken Severus in his wake. When had Lucius sodding Malfoy become insightful?_

&*&*&

 

Antonia shifted restively. "I'm going to keep telling you what I feel when I feel it, Severus. I hope that doesn't make you uncomfortable."

He slid his arm around her back in response, liking the feel of her shoulders under his palm.

Antonia smirked. "So, six kids, huh? At least I only have to give birth to four of them. You've got a good start on the first two."

"Shut it, Dance," Severus growled. "Lest I change my mind and want more."

"Whatever you say, Severus," Antonia answered with a laugh. "I've heard that a Potions Master in Belgium is working on a Male-Impregnation Potion for gay couples. Maybe we can contact him to be in the trials. I wouldn't want to leave you out of the joys of childbirth."

Severus laughed aloud, the sound ringing in the silence between songs. It was the first time he had done so in years. "You are quite impossible."

"I take that as a compliment, coming from you," Antonia answered. "You are the President of the land of Impossible, they held elections last week. I'm sorry you didn't get the notice in the mail."

Severus let himself relax into their light banter. Perhaps he could learn to love his doctor, but he would have to learn to accept himself first. He would speak with Joseph Pony about meeting with the shaman after Christmas. The boy had explained the process would be one of self-discovery. Severus knew he had castigated himself for so long that he would have to learn to live with what he was if he were going to share his life with the impossible woman at his side.

She moved against him and he longed to take her in his arms and show her just how she affected him. When they returned to the compound, he decided he would.


	25. Chapter 24

"No!" Pansy screeched over the protestations of her husband. "I won't go."

Zabini ran his hand over his closely sculpted hair. "Please, Pansy, it's just a small, family Yule celebration. They'll be disappointed if we don't go."

The woman-child crossed her arms over her chest, lip poking out in a way that made Severus want to assign detention if it were only in his power.

"You go." Pansy said. "I'll stay here with Mr. Brick and his two wives."

"Darling, Brick is not married." Zabini answered with straining patience. "Remember, we talked about that? The sisters are merely his friends."

She looked at her husband with almost comic superiority. "You are so blind."

"Regardless, Pansy, Stella wants you to go. She has a surprise planned for you." Zabini cajoled, knowing Severus' daughter was a favourite of Pansy's.

"No." Pansy said with less conviction. "What does she have planned?"

Zabini shot of pleading look to Severus who merely smirked and turned back to his journal. Zabini had married the spoiled chit; after all, it was his problem to attempt to convince the girl to attend the Yule festivities at the Dance homestead.

"Thank you for your help, Severus," the younger man muttered. "Pansy, I'm asking you nicely. Do not make me order you to attend."

Pansy flounced from the chair next to the Floo, her feelings of betrayal evident in her frenzied pacing. "You promised, you bastard. You promised; once I married you that I would never have to do anything I didn't want to again."

The brunette strode to the window, tearing at her hair, as Zabini sagged against the side of the wing back chair. Miss DuPre sighed and extricated herself from Joseph Pony's embrace. "Will you go if I work roots for you?"

"You would do that?" Pansy breathed as she turned to address the werewolf. "I know how you feel about working unnecessary magic."

Miss DuPre nodded the gesture graceful and majestic. "Come with me then. If I'm going to do it, we'll have to start tonight. The roots will need at least a week to gather the Mother's power."

Pansy followed the younger woman out of the room.

Zabini looked about uncomfortably before saying, "I am sorry for the scene I caused. Sometimes her illness makes her difficult."

Joseph Pony shrugged. "It isn't like you didn't know it was gonna be a problem. Why's she so scared anyway?"

"She has her reasons," Zabini imparted tersely before adding, "She does not always feel comfortable around new people and situations."

Severus shifted. "Joseph Pony."

"Dad?"

"Perhaps Stella needs some help with her studies." Severus gave the boy a meaningful look and his son retreated, with a show of bad grace, from the room.

After the younger man left, Zabini stared into the fire. "I should have never taken her from Hogwarts that night."

"It is unlike you to second-guess your actions, Mr. Zabini." Severus observed. "Remember what the stakes were."

"Even so, she would still be whole." Zabini answered morosely.

"Whole and in Azkaban. How touching that you love her enough to condemn her to prison." Severus snorted. "You saved her from taking the Mark. I wish someone had done the same for me."

Zabini coloured, his dark face flushing red in the fire lit room. "Why did you, sir?"

"I had my reasons." Severus kept his reply short to discourage more impertinent questions. "Just as you had yours for not taking it. I suspect you were recruited quite heavily by affiliated students."

"I was, but my allegiance was already taken." Zabini moved toward the fire. "You made sure of that, sir."

&*&*&

_It was well after midnight when Severus finally found the boy, curled over the diary they had given him only a week before. He was in the Restricted Section; gods knew how he had gained access without setting off Madam Pince's considerable Age wards. Mr. Zabini slept as Severus lifted and then Levitated him through the halls to his bed in the third-year portion of the dorm. He noted the tear-tracks on the boy's face, salty and white against his dark cheeks. Once again, Severus was struck by the disturbing feeling of tenderness the boy evoked. He steeled himself against it. The boy had family, a mother that cared for him. He would never see Severus as anything more than a nuisance-- a busybody adult who exposed his well-kept secrets, a greasy git, and a bitter bastard._

_Severus placed the boy under his coverlet and_ Divestoed _him of his outer clothing, leaving Zabini in, the Potions Master presumed, his pants and vest. Young Malfoy snuffled in his sleep in the adjacent bed, and mumbled before settling back to a more restful slumber. Severus froze until he was sure the danger of discovery was past then leaned down and kissed Zabini's forehead. He had seen Lucius do the same to Draco only weeks before as his son slept. "Sleep well, Mr. Zabini and pleasant dreams."_

_Zabini curled to his side, his fist under his chin, his knees drawn up as he slumbered on. Severus' armour was safely in place before he strode from the room._

&*&*&

"Professor Snape?" Mrs. Zabini asked her voice querulous.

Severus fought the urge to curse. He was at a critical moment in the Arithmantic calculations that he and Regula were working on together. The woman had stepped out after Brick summoned her from the lab. Severus held up a finger as he finished the calculations and watched the position of the arc re-situate itself along the graph. It was still wrong.

"Professor Snape?"

Severus turned his attention to his former student, wanting to snap at her for the interruption in his routine. "Madam Zabini, I believe we have had this discussion before. You are not to refer to me as Professor; I am Severus or Mr. Snape."

She scooted into the room, her expression abashed as she approached the table on which he worked. Pansy peered down at the calculations. "Your theorem is wrong. You need the quantifiable properties balanced and here, the unknown curse components play a greater role in this portion of the equation."

She bit her lip for a few moments, her eyes unfocused as she delved for a memory or thought. Severus crossed his ankles, the dragon-hide squeaking slightly in the silence of the room. "Madam, I was unaware you took Arithmancy at Hogwarts."

"Did. You just don't remember." she answered before letting her vision slip inward again. She sighed. "Here's your problem..."

She plucked the quill from his fingers and began re-arranging ingredient components. Severus gave a half-hearted protest. Regula had the original computations and it would not hurt to have new eyes on the project, even if it were the vision of a madwoman and indifferent student. Severus watched the equations begin to resolve into an arc, only slightly off from the ideal. Pansy paused again and then added another component, the bark of the Rowan; the equations fell to chaos before settling into the clearly defined patterns both he and Regula had worked to achieve. There was still a missing component, but it was closer than they had ever been before.

"Huh," was his urbane response as Mrs. Zabini looked up at him, her china-blue eyes blank. "That was impressive, Madam. Might I enquire how you gained such skill?"

Pansy looked away with a shrug. "That cow, Granger, wasn't the only brain in Hogwarts, no matter what Dumbledore told everyone. How do you think Draco passed Arithmancy sixth year? He certainly never studied."

Severus smirked, "I am quite certain he had other things on his mind that year."

"Yes." Pansy said to her hands. "We all did. You know the curse component is smaller but more invasive than you're showing. It's... "The woman paused as if seeing the inner workings of the werewolf curse. "It's more like a disease. Like that Muggle A.I.D.S., but smaller. Think of it like a disease for a disease. That‘s what I think it is, from what‘s missing in your calculations. Or maybe not.

We saw a great deal of that in Africa-- A.I.D.S. I mean-- I wanted to be a mediwitch before I went mad. Now I'm just that burdensome wife to Blaise. It's sad really."

Severus looked at her, he knew, with an odd expression. For the first time in his life she had made him unable make a response that would speak to anything she had said. Pansy finally broke the stalemate. "I'm going to go with you to your doctor's home, but I won't like it."

"I see." Severus removed the quill which she was beginning to fray in her fingers as she began picking at the rachis. He spoke sternly, as if to a child, "I shall not allow you to embarrass me, Madam."

"I won't but Stella says there will be trouble." Pansy assured him. "She's much better than that fraud Trelawney. There might be something to going native."

Severus pressed the bridge of his nose with his forefinger, wishing he were anywhere else but trapped in the room with his former student. "Will that be all, Madam Zabini?"

"Oh, no." Pansy turned back to the parchment. "I was sent here by Antonia to tell you that Stella needs a pair of glasses. Just don't get round ones. She'll look like a female Potter without the idiotic Gryffindor expression."

"Why, thank you for conveying that message."

"I always fancied you, Professor. Did you know that?" Severus felt the woman's mood shift and she began singing as she exited the room.

&*&*&

_From the Diary of Blaise Zabini, Summer 1998._

_Pansy has not recovered from what everyone is calling the Final Battle. She spent the first two nights on the battlefield crying over the fallen on both sides. I had to bring her into the Hog's Head several times before Aberforth dosed her with Calming Draught and Dreamless Sleep. I wish I could take her to Madam Pomfrey, but Pansy is_ persona non grata _at Hogwarts since she made the suggestion that the students turn in Potter, Weasley and Granger. Only Padma and I knew why she wanted to, and we have both been sworn to secrecy about her madness. Snape said it wasn't a good idea to advertise it if I wanted to keep her out of St. Mungo's._

_Snape... I don't know who is taking his death harder, the few remaining Slytherins or Potter. As much as they hated each other... Snape's last words must have been really something to the Gryffindor. Gods, I ache when I think of him dying in that shack all alone. It's been three days and no one has been able to find his body. I suspect Lucius Malfoy hid it before he was arrested. Draco said Snape was one of his father's closest friends. I'm glad his body has disappeared. I wouldn't like to think of him falling into loyal Death Eaters hands. He deserves respect in death at least. Merlin knows, he never received it when he was alive._

_I drank with Aberfoth last night to his memory. The alcohol did nothing to ease the pain of his loss, but I was finally able to shed tears. Aberforth is a right bastard most times, but... Well, I think he loved Snape like a son. I never knew they even talked. So we drank, the one who loved him like a son and the one who wanted him to be his father-- Snape's odd little adoptive family whom he never even knew he had._

_Pansy insists he is alive, of course. I keep trying to reason with her, tell her what Potter said to He-Who-Was-Profane before the boy wonder killed him, but she just won't listen. She gets like that sometimes. I just can't reason with her._

_Shite. I hate what this war has done to all of us. Draco never wanted to be a Death Eater. I don't think Mr. Malfoy wanted to be one once Voldemort returned. How the fuck did all this happen? I fear our world may never recover from this war. I fear for our future as a race. Perhaps that's what both sides were fighting for... the continuance of our race, but they surely bollixed us all up. I just don't know anymore if either side was right. Maybe we should just join the Muggle world. Surely they aren't as superstitious and reactionary as we believe them to be._

_Many of our Housemates are awaiting hearings whether they carry the Mark or not. Goyle has disappeared. Crabbe, from all accounts, incinerated himself, Nott has left the country and Draco is in Azkaban. His trial was yesterday. I think Pansy and I will have to do that soon. Public opinion is hotly against anyone affiliated with Slytherin right now. Too bad the average dolt doesn't remember that Umbridge was a Hufflepuff and the one who brought the Dark Lord back, Pettigrew, was a Gryffindor..._

&*&*&

Joseph Pony was the next to enter the lab. Severus was still thinking of the odd comments of Pansy about the disease of a disease. He had consulted the copy of _Bergey’s Determinative Manual of Bacteriology_ which Antonia had loaned him, and found a reference to something called a phage that disrupted the normal workings of the bacterial cell that it infected. Severus was trying to cross-reference the Muggle literature with the slim amount known about wizard-caused plagues. The ones he could identify were ancient, and little was known about them. Bubonic plague had more information, but may or may not be the same plague that attacked Muggles in the Middle Ages. He would need more information. Like Pansy, he could envision the components interactions... Surely it could not be that simple a mechanism or that daunting a thing to cure.

"Dad," Joseph Pony sat next to him, running over the project notes as he awaited Severus' answer. The boy huffed. "A cursed disease?"

"Yes." Severus searched the next book for the information he sought.

Joseph Pony became absorbed in the reading, his lips moving as he read pertinent passages and committed them to memory. He began beating a rhythm with his feet. The boy never could sit still for long. Severus sneered at him as the noise-making became louder and more annoying. "Sorry."

Severus shut one book with an impatient snap and dragged a fairly large tome towards him. What he would not do for a peek in the Hogwarts library or better yet, Albus’ private library, willed to Severus, but laying unclaimed in the old man’s vault. Joseph Pony looked up. "It says here that gene therapy can be employed to... No, never mind that's the Muggle form..."

They struggled through the books laid out on the table, unaware of the passage of time until Severus felt an impatient tap on his back. "Severus, has Joseph Pony informed you that you have an owl waiting for you?"

"Shit," Joseph Pony whispered. "Sorry, Dad. I forgot."

Antonia tapped her foot impatiently as Severus whisked everything back to a semblance of order. "It's been there over two hours and gone through all the Owl-treats I have in my office. You'll need to bring it something to eat."

"Madam," Severus began, his ire at being interrupted rising with her irritation at being kept waiting. He followed her out the door. "Why did you not simply remove the package and send the beast on its way?"

"Don't you think I tried taking the letter?" Antonia sniped back as Severus delved into his desk for his store of Owl-treats. "It bit me."

She held up a recently healed finger. Severus swallowed a retort about her inability to cope with new situations.

Once across the compound, he and Antonia parted, both still irritated. "Okay, so I'll see you for dinner tonight?"

"I suppose." Severus drawled, not adding the 'if I must.' There was not sense in allowing their spat to escalate to a full-fledged row.

“I hope spaghetti is okay. I don’t feel like cooking.“ Antonia paused as he entered the outbuilding, more of a chicken coop than a proper owlery. "I love you, Severus."

"Infuriating woman." He snarled back at her, happier with her words than he cared to show.

Antonia tittered as she walked to the main building. "I know, and you love me for it."

Severus saw the strange owl, a tawny-coloured barn owl with orange eyes, sitting on a perch. The letter in question was clutched in its talons. Severus offered it a treat and took the letter from it in a single, swift move. American owls were not always the tamest creatures. He turned the letter over in his hands and recognised the scrawl on the envelope.

With impatient hands, he opened the letter, unmindful of the stench of the owls or the chill in the early evening air.

_Snape,_

_I have done as you asked and talked with Griphook about your vault. He accepted the token you gave me and the information about... well you know. The funds will be transferred to Heppintaint's. You will be able to access them from any branch. He said something about a conversion rate to U.S. dollars making you wealthy, but I didn't understand. Have you gone Muggle? I've also secured the other items in your rooms at Hogwarts. Minerva McGonagall has assured me that your rooms in the dungeons remain sealed. No worries there. I got it out of her last Hogsmeade weekend. She may have had a little too much to drink, and I don’t think she remembers much about the conversation, or the walk back to the Castle, to be honest._

_As for my brother's books and your 'pertinent documents', I'm sending them by Owl. They should be at your new home in a week._

_I know why you won't come back, but if you ever do, there is a full acquittal and an Order of Merlin First Class waiting on you at the Ministry, and I get the feeling, after talking to Minerva that you'd have a friend and champion in young Potter. Just wanted you to know that._

_Anyway, thanks for the word. I've worried about you for the past five years, wondering where you could be, and if you were well. I've also included the Prince family ring in this letter. Just tap your want to the small, gold spot on the corner of the parchment and you'll be able to retrieve it._

_You asking for that ring makes me wonder. Does your request mean I'll be losing another confirmed bachelor friend to a bonding? If so, congratulations. It means that your past has lost its grip on you and you‘ve at least started to forgive yourself for being young and stupid. If it doesn't, why not? You lived your life for other people long enough. It's time for you now, boy. Have a dozen brats, screw three women at once, hell, become a monk for all I care, just be happy. You deserve it Severus._

_Yours._

_A. Dumbledore_  
The Hog's Head  
Hogsmeade 

Severus folded the letter with a befuddled smile. He had not expected Aberforth to be so thorough or so discreet. Severus patted the parchment in his pocket. He would retrieve the ring when the time was right, but now he had a cosy dinner to attend with a beautiful woman who might still be irritated with him. It was just as well that she had introduced him to the idea of make-up sex after their last row, he would be happy to employ any means necessary to achieve his aims for the night.


	26. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was red-moused by Jilliane. Any mistakes remaining are my own.

Were it up to Severus, he would have opted to stay at the compound while the children visited the Dance homestead. It, however, was not up to him. His twelve-year-old daughter who now sat opposite him in the dining room of said homestead had made the fact abundantly clear.

She looked up from the book before her. "Daddy, I hope you like what I got you for Christmas. It's something you can use and not in the lab."

She kicked her feet, squirming against he pull of the velvet-like fabric of the chair. Severus, not having been the recipient of broad hints issued by prepubescent females ever, remained silent. He and Lily had never exchanged gifts. He insisted on the tradition because of his own penury, she because she had no idea what to buy for a boy. Both had been quite content with the situation.

"It's more of a bathroom thing." She finally said. "Not the gross kind, you know. It's just, well... I don't want to give it away."

Stella squirmed again, flicking her hair out of her eyes, and nearly sending her glasses, silver-framed ovals, flying. Severus cautioned, "Stella, be mindful of your glasses. I will not be able to afford a new pair for some time."

The statement was not strictly true. He had gone to Heppintaints in Meridian only a few days before Christmas and had seen with his own eyes, the contents of the vault. The goblins and half-goblins that ran the branch had not been pleased with his insistence, but insist he did. His vault was a moderately sized one and was full of neatly stacked, newly minted U.S. dollars. Severus had nodded and turned to the neat stack of books, the remainder of Dumbledore's stores from the old man's vault at Gringotts. He took those with him, still mindful of the necessity of maintaining a budget. The children would neither be spoiled as Lucius had spoiled his son, nor would they suffer from lack as he had. He had decided on taking the middle road with them, providing Stella with an allowance and Joseph with a stipend in addition to his income from the owl-order Potions business he still maintained.

"I love you, Daddy." Stella said as she pushed her glasses back to position. She looked at him oddly for a moment as he continued to read the article before him. His gift to Joseph Pony had been a subscription to _The American Potioneer_. The boy had read it already and had marked article he knew to be of particular interest to both Severus and the project.

Stella said after moments of accusatory silence, "You never say it back to me. It's important for a girl to hear once in a while."

"Stella." Severus frowned, replacing the marker on the page to which he had read. "In my own inimitable way, I do express the sentiment to you. Please do not expect the words to come trippingly off my tongue."

Pansy entered from the kitchen, her arms laden with a blue, crockery bowl of cookie dough and her wand twitching several articles behind her. "Don't worry about him saying anything, darling. He's a man. He doesn't possess the verbal skills to do it correctly."

Severus sneered at the former Miss Parkinson. "Thank you for your help, Madam."

"No problem, Severus." Pansy placed the bowl on the table and flicked the other articles to the table. "I wonder who would like to help me make some sugar cookies? Isn’t it odd what these Americans call biscuits, Severus?" She formed a sneer around the word, "Cookies.”

She arranged a large plastic square on the tabletop and placed various coloured sugars around it. Severus sneered once more. "I was unaware that you knew how to labour as a house-elf might."

"Ooh, Daddy, you better not let Mari hear you say that," Stella whispered. "She would expect a big gift for that."

"The correct term is bribe, darling," Pansy said. "And I think your Daddy knows more about those than most. Isn't that right, Severus? Father always said it was how you kept from going to Azkaban. "

"Madam, that will be enough." Severus jerked away from the table his voice rising as he upset her careful arrangement of sugars and flour with the swift motion.

Pansy's blue eyes glittered with malice as she turned her eyes on her project. Blaise stuck his head into the dining area. "Pansy, do you need to rest?"

The woman's expression crumbled as she looked at her husband and then at both Severus and Stella. She began crying in heaving sobs and uttering unintelligible apologies. Zabini took her away from the room as Stella stared after the couple, wide-eyed.

The girl said, "Don't be mad at her, Daddy. She doesn't know any better sometimes."

Severus scowled, attempting to get his anger to a manageable level before addressing his daughter. He took his seat once more and ran his hand over the smooth surface of his trousers, charcoal-grey, lamb’s wool that he had purchased in honour of the season's festive mood.

Stella fingered the plain, red-checked tablecloth. "Daddy, help me with the cookies, that way Miss Pansy won't feel so bad about what just happened."

Severus turned his attention back to the book until Stella plucked it from his hands. "Come on, Daddy, it'll be fun."

&*&*&

_From the Diary of Blaise Zabini, sixth year_

_Fucking Snape and his fucking duty. I wish I had never taken this job on. I don't want to be a spy anymore and I don't want to give up anything for anyone... Now what does Malfoy want?_

_Okay, I'm back and I really need to get over what just happened. I know I'm not being very objective about it. It's just that Snape, the monk, told me to cut off a friendship with the Weaslette. I understand his reasoning, but I don't have to like it._

_It started a little over a fortnight ago. I was in dungeons between classes and I heard a scuffle down an unused halls, the one the older boys use to get their girls alone. I thought nothing of it, until I heard a girl scream. Here I am, a scrawny sixth year who is supposed to be minding his own business, and I start running towards the screams. I saw the Weaslette being pushed into the corner of the hall by two seventh years, Marcus Hudson from Slytherin and a Hufflepuff named Pradesh._

_The Indian boy had the Weaslette by her hair, forcing her head down as Marcus held her arms behind her. I saw her wand in my path and I bent to pick it up, when I heard Pradesh retching and Hudson wheezing. The Weaslette said, "I grew up with six brothers. I think I know how to handle to arses like you."_

_I cast an_ Immobilus _Charm, and the two on the floor ceased moving._

_I heard her spit and I looked up to see her face. It was covered in blood from her nose and her hair was half-down from where Pradesh had pulled it. She strode up to me. "I suppose you were going to join in?"_

_I held out her wand to her. "Hurting women has never been a particular passion of mine."_

_"Bloody hell." Weasley rubbed her nose while plucking her wand from my grasp. "That hurts. Fred and George never told me a Glasgow Kiss would hurt me so much."_

_“I’m surprised they didn’t mention it,” I said in the driest tone I could. “I think you’re supposed to use the top of your head, not your face for an effective head butt. It still hurts, there’s just not as much of your own blood involved.”_

_I flipped out the ever-present square of linen, a must for all Slytherins who were more prone to be attacked by the other Houses. She took it and smeared the blood from one area to another. I took it back and wiped it expertly from her face. I had my share of fixing first and second years up after spats in the hallways. "Let's get you out of here."_

_"What about them?" the Weaslette asked._

_I took her arm, trying to get her to leave the area before I cast the Patronus to alert Professor Snape to their whereabouts. "They'll be taken care of, don't you worry."_

_She pulled away. "Yeah, right, you Slytherins stick together."_

_"You wound me, Weasley. I would never do something so Gryffindorish," I said, trying to lighten the mood. "I shall alert Professors Snape and Flitwick. They will decide the appropriate punishment_

_"Who died and made you Head Boy?" She stopped suddenly, making me almost step on her heels. She moved away from me, toward the main hall of the dungeons. "Give them a trouncing for me, Zabini."_

_After she left, I alerted Snape and the two boys were made to wish they had never been born. Snape wouldn't tell me what he did, but Pradesh wasn't in the halls for several days, and Hudson left Hogwarts right after._

_The Weaslette and I started meeting after that to study. I would see her in the hallways and she would give a wave, of course where no one could see, and I would wave back just as surreptitiously. I found out that she was more than what we assumed, better somehow. I think I was half in love with her by the end of the first week. I have to admit, during some of our study sessions, the only subject we really covered was snogging. Not that I minded. I had always thought the Weaslette was the best of the clan, behind her brother Percival, and had admired her since second year._

_Snape found us in the library in a corner snogging madly. He pulled me into his office the next day and was almost apologetic when he told me to call things off with Weasley. He told me I had to consider my position as a spy and my usefulness to Slytherin if I was seen consorting with the so-called enemy. I knew he was right, but I still hated him for it._

_So, tonight I confronted her in front of Draco and his crew. I teased her about her tattered robes and her blood-traitor family. I was ready for her anger; I was ready for her Hexes. I was unprepared for her almost tearful silence. I watched her leave as Malfoy and his cronies patted me on the back. I hate being a spy, but I'm committed to it more fully now. I have to be so someday I can let the Weaslette know I never really meant to make her cry._

&*&*&

Severus sat on the couch in front of the Christmas tree in the darkened living room. Antonia was huddled under a blanket, her feet in his lap as he stroked them absently. They were the last up and probably would be the first to wake.

Antonia shifted her eyes drooping as he moved up her feet to her ankles.

"Severus," she whispered.

He paused in his progression, a small smile playing on his lips at the sound of her throaty exhalation. "What is it, my dear?"

"Tomorrow, my aunt and her family will be here." She shifted once more, her expression clouding as she added, "They aren't like my father. They know Mama is a witch, but they are all a little closed-minded about us."

"I see." Severus sighed, wishing with all his might that he had stayed at the compound. It had been the same at Lily's home during holidays. Lily had told him on several occasions that her mother's sister had been quite put out by Lily's accidental magic.

He ran a finger over the arch of Antonia's foot. "I suppose I shall have to tell the children and the Zabinis to be circumspect tomorrow."

"You're lucky I'm not ticklish. I have my feet in a very bad spot for you." Antonia wiggled her toes in his hand. "If I had known they would be here beforehand, I would have suggested we stay at the compound."

Severus slanted a quick smirk her way. "I suspect I would have taken you up on the offer. Mari would be more than happy to have cooked dinner for us all."

“Gaius is coming in tomorrow morning.” Antonia said.

Severus suppressed a grimace as he reached into his waistcoat pocket, pulling out a small, velvet covered box. "I should like to present you with your gift tonight in light of the guests tomorrow."

"It's magical or naughty?" Antonia asked her eyes suddenly less drowsy and her hands in the air.

Severus stood letting her feet fall to the couch. He attempted to get on bended knee, but the loud report of cracking tendons sent the woman into a fit of laughter. "Don't do that, sweetheart; you’ll wake up the whole house."

She sat up straighter, patting the seat next to her as Severus flipped the lid open on the box. Nestled in a layer of silk was the ring, which Aberforth had included in his letter. Severus perched on the seat next to Antonia who had fallen silent. The emerald and gold glittered in the light from the tree.

He attempted to swallow over the large and rather daunting lump of fear in his throat before he said, "I should like to ask if you would consent to be my wife."

Antonia shifted until she sat against him. “Are you ready for this, Severus? I mean… Hell, I don’t know what I mean. We don’t really know each other all that well and you don’t know...”

Antonia looked away from him, her face drawn into a scowl as she seemingly became involved in the homely decorations on the tree. Severus braced himself for her inevitable rebuff, feeling the acid of his inferiority building in his gut. She drew a breath and then leaned against him, curling into a little ball under his arm. “You don’t know everything about me and my relationship with Thierry.”

“Antonia,” Severus began but was silenced by her lips against his.

She drew away. “I don’t want you to think my answer will be anything but ‘yes’, Severus. I do think we have something between us, even if you don’t call it love. I hope one day you will. I just want you to know that I’m… damaged goods as far as the relationship world goes.”

Severus laughed darkly as he pulled away from her, his heart hammering in his chest painfully. “What do you think you could have done that would diminish my esteem for you? Do you realise whose mark I carry? If you have a stain on your soul, mine is black. Please, Antonia, spare me the theatrics. If you do not want to marry me… ”

“Gods, Severus. Just sit back.” Antonia touched him in a placating gesture. “Okay, I don’t know your entire history and you don’t know mine. I just think you need to know that you aren’t the only one that… has had more than a passing brush with Darkness.”

Severus settled back against the seat as Antonia stroked his hand. She began haltingly. “Thierry and I met in college during the early eighties. His family supported Voldemort. He told me he came here to get away from them. They were pureblood and elitist and… you know the type, I’m sure.

“I was attracted to him because he was everything that I’m not. He was handsome, charming and debonair and I was just…” Antonia flicked her hands to highlight her supposed shortcomings. “He taught me curses, he said to protect myself, but they were Dark. I loved him absolutely and never questioned what he said. By the time we graduated, I would have done anything he told me to do magically or otherwise.

“We both studied Healing in England; you remember I told you I was doing an internship for both medicine and Healing? He was too. When we graduated, we were both heavily recruited by several organizations. We decided to work for WHO. Our first assignments were… tough, but we felt we were doing great good. When the civil war broke out between the Hutu and Tutsi, we volunteered.”

Antonia began picking at the bits of balled fluff on the fleecy blanket that covered her. “Things there were horrible. The wounds we treated were beyond comprehension. Thierry and I fought all the time; we were too exhausted to sleep, and when we did, we saw what had been done to those poor people.

“It was toward the end of our assignment that I sensed a shift in Thierry’s outlook. He had a particularly bad case— a little girl, maybe three years old, who had been raped repeatedly over a week. Her family was magical and had been targeted by the Hutus. The mother brought her in and Thierry had to tell her that there was nothing that could be done for her daughter. She screamed…” Antonia paused in her narrative as if overcome by the memory.

Severus remained still as he remembered his own visions of horror during the damnable war in which he fought.

After a moment, Antonia continued, “When the assignment was over, we left. I tried to heal the rift that was forming between us but I think I knew even then, that Thierry had undergone some fundamental change. He seemed as if he was on a precipice, looking over the edge trying to decide whether to jump or not.

“That was when WHO asked for volunteers to go to England. Thierry accepted for both of us, and like I said, I would have done anything he wanted. I didn’t realise he had an agenda until we got to England. He would disappear at odd times; when he returned he would be so cold and distant. I told myself he was just going through the same thing I was, and he was getting used to being back in Europe, back home.

“The night before the Final Battle, he went out after we fought over his frequent absences. I was sure he was cheating and he called me a stupid Hybrid. He returned just our team was preparing to Apparate to Hogwarts. He was different, almost happy about the battle, but I didn’t give it any thought, until we got there and he told me why he had returned.” Antonia twisted her fingers together in a painful expression of her mental state. “I didn’t kill him because he had been injured, that was just a story I made up so everybody could remember the good that he did, rather than the Mark he had taken just the night before. I killed him because he was going to fight for them. He was going to fight children. He had turned into what he hated, and I couldn’t live with that.”

As Antonia’s narrative ceased, Severus took her in his arms. She stiffened and then relaxed into his embrace. She drew a shuddering breath as he began stroking her back, circling her in his embrace. “Severus, I know I told you I didn’t need to know your secrets, but can you answer one question for me?”

He kissed her brow, steeling himself against the necessity of baring his soul to another person. It left him feeling more exposed than he had ever felt before either the Dark Lord or Albus. “I shall try.”

“Why would anyone want to join someone who stood for such evil?”

&*&*&

_November 4, 1981: that was the date Severus set for Severus’ trial. It was the fourth day of his half-life after Lily’s death._

_He could not even think her name without the tearing sensation where his heart used to be. He had thought the pain of losing her the first time was unbearable. He still missed her smile and her wit. Now, knowing that he was the author of her death…_

_Severus rolled onto his side wishing for the thousandth time that Dementors were allowed in this section of Azkaban so that he might find an escape to the pain that threatened to consume him. It was worse than the most deftly administered_ Cruciatus _Curse._

_His swirling thoughts centred on the one thing that had caused the most destruction in his life, thus far: The faulty logic that had led him to become a Death Eater had led, ultimately to his own questionable salvation. He wished..._

_He wished he were once more eleven and on that first fateful trip to Hogwarts. He wished he was fifteen and could remain silent when Lily had stepped up to defend him. He wished he was seventeen and his mother did not lay dying in a bed, his father did not lay dying in the filth of an alleyway, and that he was not stripped and spewing his spunk as the Dark Lord bleated his fallacies and fairy-tales. He wished he was not twenty-one and wasting his first experience with sex on a woman who was already dead, even if she was still drawing breath at the moment he raped her. He wished that no ghostly visitors came to haunt him now that he had rediscovered his heart, the shattered feeling of it in his chest letting him know it was still there. He wished that the Dark Lord had killed him instead of her..._

_He wished, he wished, he wished..._

_He wished that Albus had not been so kind to him, even as the Aurors came to take him away for his iniquity. He had never been worth anything to anyone, and he wished now that he could live up to what the old man expected from him. The war was not over, and Severus wished._

&*&*&

 

Severus spoke to Antonia about his own choice. He spoke in unflinching terms of his decision to join and the role of his mother in that decision. He told her of his hardscrabble youth, the poverty and ugliness of Spinner’s End and the loveless atmosphere in which he was forced to thrive. There was no bid for pity in his telling and Antonia offered none as she sat silent against him, her voice and body still for the first time since he had met her.

He cast his sins before her, the ones he willingly committed in his service to both the Dark Lord and Albus. He kept nothing from her save one name, the name that would condemn him for eternity.

Lily.

The name was an invocation that still had the power to shatter him, sending shards of regret and recrimination deep into his being.

She listened until he ran out of words to describe his atrocities. Then they both sat, silent in the Yule night, listening to the whisper of the household, the soft hiss of the heater as it warmed everything but their souls.

Antonia pulled away from him.

He had expected this from the first time she expressed a romantic interest in him. Even so, it still hurt.

It was almost agony to know that all of this could have been prevented had he made better choices-- had he been a better man. He was surprised to feel the shattered weight of his heart as she stood. Impossibly, it seemed that the pain of losing Lily could be equalled by the withdrawal of the doctor. He did not think he could bear another such heartbreak, and did not think it possible that there could be another for him.

In that moment, he knew that he had fallen in love with the infuriating American who would now leave him. He said, “I shall not make things difficult for you if you wish to end our association.”

“Severus, do me the favour of letting me make up my own mind about you and quit assuming the worst about me.” Antonia turned to him, her position precarious as she slid to the edge of the divan. She added, “I do admit, I need some time to process all you’ve told me, but I’m not breaking things off and I will take that ring from you, if you’re still offering it to me.”

She placed her hand over the fist that held the gold band. “Are you?”

He dared not respond as he opened his fingers and placed the ring in her palm.

She smirked. “I think you’re supposed to slip it on my ring-finger to make it official.”

His eyes swept to her face swiftly and then returned to the glittering hope, which lay in her palm. He did as she asked with a muttered, “Thank you.”

She returned to his side, feet tucked under her and they watched the Christmas tree twinkle merrily. The past was behind them and the future a distant dream. The moment they shared was all that mattered.

&*&*&

_Severus cast his Patronus for Albus. The old man turned to watch the silvery doe bound once on the office floor and then soar out of the window. He turned as the glow faded and asked, “After all this time?”_

_“Always,” said Snape._ ^

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ^Quote from The Deathly Hallows, p 687, US edition
> 
> Thanks for reading. Please take the time to let me know what you think.


	27. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was red-moused by Jilliane, who also came up with the saying about bottled water and mermaids. Any mistakes remaining are my own.

_It was Halloween in Severus’ first year as an instructor. Professor Dumbledore told him to start the term and so he had. Lily was safe and the Dark Lord appeased by his spy’s placement on the staff. Severus sat at the Head table willing the students to look elsewhere as his Dark Mark began to tingle and then to burn. His gaze fluttered past Hagrid to Prof—no, Albus. The older man looked directly into Severus’ eyes and ascertained to problem with a quick spell. He nodded and Severus retreated from the room._

_As he made his way past the teacher’s entrance, he collapsed as endless waves of agony enveloped his arm. He may have cried out for suddenly Poppy Pomfrey was on him and Albus was away in a furious flurry of violet and moon emblazoned robes with Hagrid on his heels._

_Severus sobbed through his pain as the fire increased. Poppy moved him through a Floo that connected with all the Professors quarters and the Hospital Wing; a Floo that Albus himself had set up over direct opposition of the Board of Governors. He swallowed against the bile that rose as she bathed his arm with no effect in Dittany then, Severus’ own Burn Ointment. She said nothing to ease his pain. Even though Severus had been one of her favourites while he had been in school, she had yet to forgive him for the Mark that was now torturing him._

_He fought as she attempted to administer both Sleeping and Calming Draughts. “I must leave. He demands it.”_

_“At least take this.” Poppy shoved the Calming Draught into his hand. “You’re not even attempting to Occlude. That bastard will see through you in an instant.”_

_Severus quaffed the vial of potion, his arm drawn to his body, praying that the Dark Lord was not attuned to the mediwitch’s words. He summoned enough strength to exit the Ward and made his way down his quarters on the second floor. He donned his Death Eater garb and Floo’ed to Malfoy Manor through a secret connection established through Lucius’ influence._

_Narcissa greeted him, her face white and frantic and her eyes red-rimmed. She grappled with Severus as he pushed past her into the nether regions of the Manor, calling for Lucius. He found his old friend slumped over his own marred arm, his face even paler than normal. Draco wailed at his feet._

_Severus barked, “Do make yourself useful, Narcissa and go to the Dark Lord’s store and fetch me the Calming Draught.”_

_“Draco...” she said as if the child’s presence were an excuse for her to countermand Severus’ orders while in service to the Dark Lord._

_Snape rounded on her, his pain making him shorter with the woman than normal. “Do you wish the Dark Lord to be displeased that his cash cow is incapacitated in His time of need?”_

_Narcissa fled with a cry of fearful outrage. Severus turned next to Draco. He picked up the child, jiggling him so that he might quit his caterwauling. The toddler, after several passes of the room, calmed._

_Lucius stirred. “Put him next to me, old man.”_

_“Who would have thought you would be such a devoted father,” Severus intoned waspishly. “Have you any news about...”_

_“Nothing. This is no Summons, Severus.” Lucius answered over gritted teeth as he jiggled a silver rattle over his son’s head. “I fear... I fear our fight is over. He is defeated.”_

_Severus stiffened, knowing that only one thing would defeat the Dark Lord and realising whose involvement was implied. He fled the room, his heart shattering with the thought..._

&*&*&

Severus started awake as he felt a questing hand on his stomach. He rolled over and captured his molester, pushing her onto her back and pinning her. It was still dark outside. He nuzzled her neck, as he asked, “What could you want with my person, so early in the morning?”

“Nothing,” Antonia’s innocent reply was accompanied by a frantic flapping of her pale brown lashes. “I just thought I would get my other Christmas present early.”

“I had no idea a little game of slap and tickle could be considered a gift. I could have spared myself some expense.” He drifted lower, taking his time on the expanse of skin she had apparently bared before her assault.

Antonia pulled sharply on his hair as he delved lower. “Severus, I don’t think we’re alone.”

Severus rose to his elbows and saw Stella’s dark head on the floor, her body covered by the thick goose-down duvet she had appropriated the night before. He groaned as his daughter snuffled in her sleep. “Children have ever been the bane of my existence.”

Antonia pulled her nightgown over her head as she laughed. “You’re the one who said he wanted six.”

“I’ve come to my senses.” Severus growled as he willed his excited state away and then rose from the bed. He crouched next to his daughter’s prone form. “Dearest, wake up and go back to your own room.”

Stella stirred and turned over, gracing him with a beatific smile. “Daddy, Mrs. Dance said if I could wake you up, we could open Christmas presents.”

“My dear, it isn’t even...” He cast a _Tempus_ charm and shuddered. “It isn’t even six yet. Go to bed and I promise I will wake you as soon as I rise.”

“You’re awake now,” Stella pouted.

Antonia chuckled. “It’s a losing battle, Severus.”

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake,” he huffed. “This is exactly why I hated Yule at Hogwarts. The little dunderheads were always too excited by greed and sugar. Stella I shall be below stairs in a few moments. You will eat a healthy breakfast and we will wait for the entire household to rise before we open gifts. Is that understood?”

Stella nodded, shooting Antonia a complicit look before stumbling out of the room with her night linens. Severus did not miss the wink that Antonia bestowed upon Stella. Insufferable females.

Severus climbed back onto the bed, his muscles aching as he did. He covered a grimace as Antonia touched his back. She said, “You’re really good with her.”

“Thank you,” he answered with a scowl. “Most of the time I feel I am completely out of my element.”

“That’s what Daddy said to me after you asked to court me and I began to panic about being a parent. He said that’s what most parents feel.” Antonia began rubbing his shoulders. “You’re tight. Is it a bad day?”

“Yes.” Severus leaned into her hands. “I shall need to take the Demerol and possibly the Calming Draught.”

“Okay.” Antonia kissed along his shoulder, leaving a moist trail as she did. “I do love you, so much.”

“I believe I am beginning to...” Severus thought of his long-held feelings for Lily. He had loved her. He had. Antonia’s touch smoothed further down his back drawing his thoughts to the truth of Lily once again. He sighed. “I should like to tell you... about Lily now.”

“No.” Antonia said. “I don’t want to hear it, not today. Let this be our day. You gave me a ring last night and I want today to be mine, not anyone else’s.”

Antonia continued her massage, easing the firing neurons with trembling fingers. Severus replied, as steadily as he could over the beating of his frantic heart, “Of course, my dear. I wasn’t thinking.”

&*&*&

_Albus returned and with him, he brought the news of Lily’s death. Severus felt as if a piece of him had broken as he begged for death only to have Albus snatch the prospect away by extracting the promise to protect her child. Severus was not certain he could._

_Years passed and Severus settled into his persona of walking misery. What had started as defence against the sneering of students became offence. He sank further into his wretchedness every year. He sneered his way through life, alienating even his closest friends so that he could make it from day to day in a world without meaning. Every night, he relived his precious few memories of Lily and every day he tried to find meaning in a world without her._

_He wore his misery like a thick cloak and punished the world for not joining in his self-imposed life of penance. On his holidays from Hogwarts, he spent his time in Spinner’s End, looking out across streets that had become bleaker with each mill closing and each job lost. He visited their park, walked past her parents’ old house, haunted places that he knew she had been. He mourned, and in his extremity of emotion, he began to feel that she punished him. He welcomed it as a masochist welcomes pain._

_On September 1, 1991, his punishment took physical form as he looked out onto the mass of students and saw James Potter’s hateful face with Lily’s eyes glaring balefully at him. What surprised the Potions Master most about his reaction to the child was the feeling of inadequacy the child’s presence evoked, and the memories of past tortures at the hands of James Potter. Severus felt, even then, the shame of his greying pants and second hand robes, even though he had not had to endure either states of dress since he had become an adult._

_As Severus attempted to ignore the boy’s insolent bespectacled stare, he realized with startling clarity that his penance had come home to roost with a raging vengeance._

&*&*&

Gaius entered the kitchen just as Stella, Joseph Pony, and Miss DuPre sat down for their breakfast. Severus and Antonia had both opted for a lighter breakfast of toast and tea, but the children, intent on gustative excess, fixed a full home-style Lakota breakfast of fry bread, honey and bacon. Severus snagged a piece of the steaming bread from Joseph Pony’s plate as the boy scowled at him.

Joseph Pony returned to the hob to get a second piece and settled next to Severus again as the ponce entered the room. Antonia beamed at her brother, “I thought you weren’t going to be here ‘til later.”

The smarmy bastard, even with his hair dishevelled and his face swollen from recent sleep, looked charming. Severus noted with some disgust that both Miss DuPre and Stella were duly impressed. He smirked behind his copy of the Muggle Daily Oklahoman, the region’s largest daily newspaper.

“I got in about three,” Gaius mumbled as he groped in the cabinet for a cup for his coffee. He yawned without covering his mouth, sending Stella into a fit of giggles, then continued, “I thought... well, I’ve already told Mama and Daddy. I’m coming home. I want to go to Law school, you know, do something good with my life instead of trying to...”

Severus rustled his papers loudly as he turned the page. Marvellous. His James-Potter-brother-in-law would probably take full advantage of the proximity to make Severus’ life hell. He felt the acid burn of a retort to the ponce on the tip of his tongue.

Gaius said into the silence, in an offhand manner that was not to be believed, “I thought Johnson would be with you.”

“Johnson’s got his own family, you know that.” Antonia said with a cat-in-the-cream expression. “They’re connected to the Floo, if you wanted to call him.”

Gaius turned his attention to stirring sugar into his coffee. Severus remained engrossed in his reading, until Gaius said with a sneering tone, “I hear my sister lost her mind and agreed to let you court her, Snape.”

“Guy.” Antonia warned.

Severus turned the page, not having found anything worth reading in the slightly pedantic publication, and with a snap, folded the paper neatly. “She has actually come to her senses and agreed to marry me. I gave her the ring last evening.”

“What?” Joseph Pony asked in mock outrage. “You asked her without letting us be there?”

Miss DuPre squealed and eagerly grasped at Antonia’s left hand while Stella hugged Severus amidst kisses and many professions of gratitude. Severus suffered his daughter’s attentions with greater forbearance than he might have been able to call upon at an earlier stage of his life. His daughter turned to look at the ring, freeing Severus from her attentions. The Potions Master gave a mere lift of his lips as the ponce scowled.

As the hubbub of the announcement swirled around them, Gaius levelled his gaze at Severus. “If you hurt her like Thierry did, you’ll have me to answer to, Snape.”

Severus inclined his head in acquiescence to the warning, glad of Antonia’s trust of the previous evening.

A loud knock sounded on the door. Stella ran to the entryway and opened it before Severus could caution her against the action. He rose and strode to her, placing her behind him as he greeted the interloper. “May I help you?”

“Yeah, got a delivery for Bob Dance.” The rough-hewn man spoke as he thrust a clipboard into Severus’ hands. Severus peered down at the slip of paper as the man stalked to the back of his truck and led out a string of goats and a small donkey. Stella squealed in delight as Severus cursed under his breath.

He followed the man to the animals. “There must be some mistake; the animals were to be delivered next week.”

“Sorry, I start a new job next week.” The man scratched his bum as Severus pulled his frock coat’s hem from the questing lips of one of the goats. “Where you want’em?”

Severus cast about for a likely location for the beasts, as he heard Antonia scold Stella for being on the veranda without shoes and a coat. He heard the screen door shut with a bang and then Stella’s heavy tread running on the wooden floors of the interior.

Antonia came out in her terrycloth dressing gown and hastily thrown on trainers. “Severus, what...”

“Your bride price,” Severus answered his face heating as he realised the Muggle driver was listening avidly to the exchange. “Where might your father wish to house them?”

Gaius joined them, his handsome face covered in a wreathing smile. “Did I hear you right? This is what Dad asked for in exchange for Toni?”

“It is,” Severus answered. “And a case of Ogden’s, which shall be delivered on Friday along with a cart for the ass.”

Gaius laughed aloud as Antonia hit him with the back of her hand. “Shut up.”

“You’re worth goats, a donkey and some liquor,” Gaius wheezed. “Snape, you could sell bottled water to a mermaid.”

Antonia strode away from them, directing the man to take the livestock to the chicken coop at the back of the acreage. Stella slammed out of the door, her coat askew and towing a barely conscious Bob Dance.

&*&*&

_From the Diary of Blaise Zabini, December 24, 2000_

_Pansy and I came back to England for the reading of her father’s will. I’ve left Pansy with Daphne and Astoria Greengrass. Their Manor holds happy memories for her and so I think she will be safe until I return tonight from my errand._

_For years now, I have held a piece of paper that Professor Snape dropped on his way out of one of the Carrows’ teaching sessions. The tattered piece of paper said, only:_

__Lots of Love,

Lily __

_I knew it was important to him, and wondered at his carelessness. It was not like him to disregard any aspect of his persona. I can only think that he hoped I would piece together the patchwork of his life and conclude what I have. I’m going to Hogwarts to get confirmation in the only manner I can. I intend to break the wards on his room and snoop. I know what I will be looking for, but do I truly want to find it? Ever since I learned that Harry Potter’s mother’s name was I have been haunted by the spectre that the man I thought I came to know through my work with him and his care of me might have been in love with a ghost ..._

_... 'McGonagall was not pleased, but after a heated exchange with Dumbledore's portrait, allowed me access to the dungeons and the corridor that all of us Slytherins knew so well. Once given permission, I shrugged off her offers of assistance. I did not need her stern face and acquisitive nature around when I learned what I needed to know._

_When I went to the door to his room, I was struck by the sheer enormity of what I had lost. I know it sounds selfish, but Professor Snape had always been important to me, even before he learned of my sexual abuse. His terse words of approval were worth their weight in gold to all his Slytherins, and possibly more to Granger. She, of all the students of our year, seemed to be the only one to respect him outside his snakes. I should look her up while I’m here, but I heard she married Weasley and that is one Gryffindor I could never abide. If only she had known that Percy pined for her. He was a Weasley worth his salt._

_I broke through the wards easily enough. Severus had taught me how to recognise many of the traps he set. Those he didn’t teach me, I had learned in my Curse-Breaking duties for Heppintaints, Gringotts and Rothschilds. I hope Severus would be proud that I was able to put his teachings to good use._

_I opened the door and felt as if I were thirteen again and shaking with rage as he read my journal..._

_Or that I was fifteen and aching after I rebuffed the attentions of Miss Weasley..._

_Or that I was seventeen and letting him cast the Glamour that would allow us to weave the fiction that her father never drove my wife to the brink of madness and that I was still whole..._

_His scent clung in the air, redolent of the potions he produced, bitter and acrid with a hint of lavender and mint. I sniffed the rarefied air that hinted at his presence and cried out in an agony of denial. He could not be dead. I loved him._

_I shifted through his belongings, trinkets of a life wasted in pursuit of a ghost and I saw it, the one thing that confirmed what I feared._

_It was a Pensieve, the silver tendrils of thought laid out as if waiting for his return, clouded by a fine sheen of dust. I touched the surface and was transported to a younger version of Severus, not carefree, burdened by the weight of his sins, but yet unformed in the crucible of both Voldemort’s and Dumbledore’s devising._

_I watched him looking at a woman, with eyes the exact shade of Harry Potter’s and flame-red hair. She peered at him through the warped surface of a window and he jerked his head up to meet her gaze, awareness of her in his swift action. She smiled at him sadly and he returned her look with a scowl until she left. As he watched her retreat from his vision, his hands shook and he held his head so that I could only see his greasy hair. As I watched his hands, I saw a tear fall on the back of one white digit._

_He said as if in prayer, “Lily.”_

_The memory stopped and I withdrew. I knew, and I would keep his secret because I loved him more for it, and knew he would want me to do just that._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, please take the time to let me know what you think.


	28. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was red-moused by Jilliane. Any mistakes remaining are my own.

_It had been a dark, soulless coupling done against the wall in one of the myriad of alleyways in Knockturn Alley. Severus paid the woman and thanked her rather stiffly for her solicitude. She smiled in the toothless way of all drug addicts, and shambled off in search of her next customer or her next fix, whichever she needed first._

_Severus leaned against the wall, hating himself for his needs. He was a Professor at Hogwarts, for Merlin’s sake. He should be able to control himself better. If it were not for Black and his damnable goading..._

_The Potions Master tucked himself into his pants that, moments before, had been around his knees as the whore brought him off. He cast a Cleansing Charm over himself, wishing there were one that could cleanse the soul, take the Dark Mark from his skin, and give him his misspent youth back. He leaned against the brick wall, hating the festering stench of the area, but wanting just a moment to attempt to savour the decidedly dim afterglow of his encounter. He closed his eyes against the wan sun filtering through the smog of wizarding London._

_Black..._

_It had been after the last Order Meeting, a month ago, when Black had cornered him in the library of that musty old residence he called his home. Severus had sneered something about the odour of wet dog and Black had responded in his usual, dim way. The “I know you are but what am I?” tenor of his remark had actually made Severus smile, although he masked it with a sneer of epic proportions._

_“Childish displays, Black, while entertaining for me, do not become you.” Severus had tried to push past the ex-Auror, wishing with more fervency than he thought possible that Black would just disappear from the face of the Earth._

_Two days ago, Severus had gotten his wish when Black was swallowed by the Veil in the Department of Mysteries fiasco._

_Two days ago, Severus had lost one more link to his painful past, and yet, he stood in the filth of an alley after being sucked off by a toothless whore, feeling worse than he ever had while the bastard was alive._

_Two days ago, Potter had almost fallen to the Dark Lord and Severus was frightened. That could never happen again. Severus would not allow it._

_He righted himself, put his best Potions Master scowl on, and exited the alley. He had duties to fulfill and Albus was waiting for him._

&*&*&

Robert Dance’s family was every bit the nightmare that Antonia had described. He sat across from the man’s sister, Loraine Schmidt, listening to her drone on about politics and religion and the fact that Jesus was coming soon. She insisted on a long and torturous prayer before eating, which involved much proselytising and ham-handed attempts to condemn homosexuality, witchcraft, and Satanism. The woman droned on now with increasing verve, warming to her varied and illogical conclusions about the world in general. Severus felt a familiar ache in his temples; the kind that came from clenching his jaws over the biting comments he wished to impart to the woman’s inane chatter. Antonia looked as if she were attempting to see through the table as she pointedly ignored her aunt.

The woman concluded her prayer and gave Livia a look of smug superiority before releasing her smarmy son’s hand. Bob excused himself to get the rest of the ham.

“So, Liv, I know you’re a Democrat, but I told you that nothing good would come from Clinton, and look, Nine Eleven happened. It’s the end of days, I tell you.” the woman said with a sniff. She turned to Severus without waiting for a reply from her sister-in-law. “So, Sev’rus, I can call you that, right? I hear you were in the military like Bob was.”

“Something like that,” Severus answered repressively. He turned his attention to Stella who was looking out the window at the livestock, which had left been in the side-yard that housed the pond and the demon-spawn geese. “My dear, tuck in before your food gets cold.’

“Oh, isn’t that sweet?” the woman intoned in a syrupy voice as Stella speared a small bit of carrot and ate it. “You’re such a wonderful man, taking in these poor lost Indian children as if they were your own.”

Joseph Pony said, “Yeah, before he came we was livin’ in a tipi, eatin’ buffalo guts. He shore has tamed us Injins. Ennit, Dad?”

Severus scowled at the young man in warning. Joseph Pony put his arm around the back of Miss DuPre’s chair and whispered in her ear. She smiled tensely but did not return comment as the smarmy Clay handed the mashed potatoes to her. Severus saw the man caress her fingers lasciviously as he handed her the crockery bowl. Joseph Pony remained oblivious as Pansy chose that moment to spill her drink.

“Darling, do you need some help?” Blaise asked. Severus knew that his former students were well aware of the tension around the table. They were unfortunately used to such holiday meals.

Young Mr. Schmidt scowled as Blaise spoke to his wife. His mother made a moue of disgust at the exchange. “Liv, you didn’t tell me there would be such an international flavour this year at your Christmas dinner. Where in Africa did you pick up your husband, dear?”

Pansy smirked. “He found me in a slave market in Zaire. I caught his eye because in my harem days I was trained in all sorts of sexual debaucheries. Perhaps I could teach you a thing or two. Fellatio is my _specialite_. Isn’t it Blaise, darling?”

Blaise suppressed a groan under the guise of wiping his lips with the serviette. Severus thought he just might learn to love Mrs. Zabini until Stella asked, “Daddy what is fallacyo? Is it Italian for lying?”

Robert Dance coughed as he sat, his eyes glistening with mirth. “Ham, Rainey?”

The tenor of the day did not improve after dinner. Severus retreated with Antonia to a porch swing, braving the decidedly chilly elements over the frostier interior. They watched Stella along with Miss Loco chase the goats, making the poor beasts fall over in dead faints. Severus was just going to call her in when Miss DuPre stormed out of the house, her normally pacific exterior stony.

“What is it, Charmaine?” Antonia asked, leaning out of Severus’ embrace.

Miss DuPre turned away from them, her fisted hand an indication of her state of mind. “I just wanna leave.”

Gaius joined them, “Fucking asshole bastards!”

He punched the clapboard siding on the porch, and then put his knuckles to his mouth with a muffled oath. Antonia rushed to him and healed the abraded surface and the interior bruising. Gaius asked, “Why does he even try with her? Dad knows what she’s like and every year he invites them... She just told Mama she’s going to hell because she’s a witch and she worships Satan.”

“What did Mama say?” Antonia asked her tone playful.

Gaius huffed, “Mama said her usual piece and then Clay sassed her. They’re in there arguing right now. Dad’s trying to calm things down.”

Miss DuPre leaned to Severus. “Can we leave soon? I remembered something, and... It’s that Clay. He was one of the men who... was a regular, and he’s trying to make a date with me.”

Severus felt a cold wash of fury, the quality of which he had not felt since his last days as Headmaster. “Miss DuPre, if you would, please fetch Joseph Pony. I shall make your apologies if you wish to leave straightaway.”

“You won’t say anything to JP, right? Please, I couldn’t stand if...,” her voice hitched and she clutched her arms to her body. “I haven’t told Joseph Pony everything that happened to me.”

“It is your choice, Miss DuPre, when to tell him,” Severus said into the breeze that kicked up a puff of brown leaves. “It is... extremely difficult to explain certain facts about one’s life, but I am sure my son would understand. He’s understood a great deal of what he’s learned of my past.”

Severus spied Antonia fussing over her brother’s hand still and cursed himself for his own cowardice. Didn’t his future wife deserve his full story too?

“I shall take care of the miscreant’s unwanted attentions once you are safely away.” Severus stood and escorted the girl through the living room to the kitchen. He stood by the sink, awaiting his son, looking at the man in question.

The younger Schmidt looked into Severus’ eyes, his own piggish eyes haughty and cold. He smirked, and Severus cast _Legilimens._

_He saw Miss DuPre, at an obscenely young age, being violated by the man as she morphed from one form to another, unable to settle into wolf or human structure, her bones and sinew stretching and contracting with painful groaning pops. He saw her, a little older, but not by much, her eyes swollen shut, her mouth bleeding._

_Schmidt said, “You were good tonight, Sweetie, but somehow I don’t think you accept your punishment as much as I like giving it.” He drew his hand over her face. She flinched away from his touch and moaned. He continued, “I tell you what, next time I’m in that damned church of my mother’s, I’ll pray that you start liking it more.”_

_Schmidt withdrew a cross-embellished money-clip from his pocket, withdrawing a few singles and a ten. With a smirk he said, “Your tip. Next time if you behave, it will be bigger.”_

_He threw the money on the befouled bed._

Severus withdrew, leaving the man gasping at the violation. The former Death Eater had not been gentle in his approach. The man’s mother fluttered over to him, concerned at his sudden panicked inhalation.

Joseph Pony approached and Severus told him, “Please, help your cousin gather the animals and then feed them. We don’t want to leave Robert with the work while he has company.”

“Dad, Charmaine said she’s not feeling good. She said she’s leaving,” the young man said, with a hint of disbelief. “Did something happen?”

“I imagine since the full moon is so close, she doesn’t feel well.” Severus drawled his eyes still on the cretin and his mother. “Please just do as I say, son.”

Joseph Pony’s expression darkened, as if he would ask more but he complied with Severus’ request.

The Potions Master padded into the living room, aware of all assembled as he spoke, “Mr. Schmidt, I do believe I need a word with you about the inappropriate advances you made toward Miss DuPre.”

“Now, Mr. Snape, I think your girl has said something that you misunderstood...” Mrs. Schmidt began. “My boy is a good... “

“Your son, Madam, is responsible for at least two instances of sadistic torture to Antonia’s patient.” Severus snapped, turning his attention to the woman. “Had he inflicted his torture to one of my charges when I was affiliated with a Darker element, I would have used my wand to give him the same treatment that he gave to her.”

He turned his black and incalculable gaze on the male of the Schmidt clan. “I would have started with a simple cutting curse, splitting you from your groin to your neck. I would have then perhaps used a tickling charm to further the damage, making your viscera spill from the cavity. A simple flick of the wand and I would have set fire to your intestines. The pain, I’ve heard, is quite excruciating...”

Schmidt whimpered, retreating as far as he could into the cushion of the chair

“Why, I never... You are the spawn of Satan, and I pray that God strikes you dead. “ the woman interrupted as she covered her ears. “Bob, are you going to let this demon in human form speak to me like that?”

“I am sure your God has more than enough work on his hands with your son’s degenerate activities, Madam. Your religiosity blinds you to the facts of his proclivities.” Severus sneered. “Mr. Schmidt, have you nothing to say for yourself?”

“Ma, I... I never touched that nigger; you know God doesn’t hold with race mixing.” Schmidt said.

Robert Dance approached his voice deadly. “You two have outstayed your welcome. You need to leave.”

Severus attempted to control his expression as the shock of Dance’s statement washed over him.

The woman scrambled to her feet, pulling her son to the door where Livia waited with their coats. She shouted, “Mama and Daddy are spinning in their graves, Robert Dance, and I’m going to pray that the Lord opens your eyes to the iniquity of your house before it’s too late! I pray that witch and her demonic spawn die!”

Dance said, “To quote that book you’re so fond of, Why do you look at the mote in your brother’s eye, but don’t see the beam in your own. Think on that as you call down ineffectual curses on my house.”

“Even Satan can quote scripture to his own ends!” the woman returned with a screech as she jerked the heavy wooden door open and pulled her son after her.

Severus gave a dark laugh, “Yes, and you do it so well.”

The two made it down the driveway to their car, leaving in a flurry of dust, as Severus went outside to check on the children. He sagged against the porch railing, his hands shaking with the effort it had taken to control his fury at the man’s crimes against Miss DuPre. He heard the screen door’s distinctive squeal and bang, and steeled himself for the unpleasantness that was soon to follow.

Gaius came to his side and leaned against the railing next to him. After several heartbeats of silence Gaius said, “I like your style, Snape. That bitch was almost pissing his pants.”

Severus snorted.

“I think you’ll be good for Toni, if you stand up like that for your son’s girlfriend,” he continued. “So, uh, how many times did you do all that stuff you said you would do to Clay?”

“Just the one time,” Severus answered. “It seemed to prove my point rather effectively.”

“I bet.” Gaius whispered after a moment’s silence.

&*&*&

 

_Severus had just discarded the girl’s broken body, another one of the many that he and Lucius had been unable to save. This one’s death had seemed more heinous than the others had. She had been only three._

_He shuddered in the chill of the caverns; his tomb for the bodies of the innocents taken before their time. The girl lay still and white in her shroud as he covered her face._

_He said the prayer he had learned those times he visited his long dead Aunt and her peaceful family. The effort felt inadequate and the sentiment false in the face of his own stained soul._

_He rose, easing his body away from the lonely gravesite. He had lesson to teach._

_Lucius sat on a boulder at the front of the cave with a sobbing form in black robes. Snape kicked the robed figure and Lucius laughed. “Severus, don’t hurt the poor boy until he understands why he’s angered you.”_

_Severus ripped the mask from the body’s head, revealing a quaking Miles Bletchley. “P-professor S-snape, please... They said I had to b-be there. I-I didn’t do anything to the little girl...”_

_The boy retched, the bile spilling from his mouth and down his rumpled robes. Severus leaned to the boy, just two years gone from Hogwarts. “Do you know what a full grown man does to the interior of a child?”_

_The boy cried softly as Severus explained the formation of traumatic fistulae, the description precise and unimpassioned. Bletchley sobbed into his hands as Lucius stood, turning his back on the scene as if bored. Severus demonstrated the agony the other Death Eaters had inflicted on the girl with a spell that split him open. Lucius turned to the scene. “I believe I might like to demonstrate...”_

_The Dark Lord’s right hand uttered another spell, and the boy’s viscera erupted. The boy’s agonised screams shot through the caverns, echoing off the walls. Severus lit the boy’s intestines, the agonised cries broke into whimpers and soft pleading as Bletchley went into shock. The men lifted the spells, and the boy was whole._

_Severus leaned down. “Fortunately for you, those were just projections because we know you haven’t violated a child yet. I suggest, if you want to survive this war, that you leave the country with your mother quietly while the Dark Lord is otherwise occupied.”_

_Lucius buffed his fingernails against his cloak. “Severus, quit toying with the boy. Narcissa is expecting me for breakfast.”_

_Severus levelled his wand at his former student. “I’m giving you a second chance because I know you to be salvageable. You did not destroy that girl, but you participated in her death. You will remember all of this evening but the identity of the two who meted out your punishment. Obliviate!”_

_Severus Disapparated with the boy and Lucius followed. They left him at his mother’s cottage._

_The Bletchley family disappeared the day after the incident._

&*&*&

Robert Dance joined the two men on the porch, his expression stony. He sat heavily in the porch swing and sighed gustily. “Gaius, why don’t you go in and see to your mother. She needs some help in the kitchen.”

Gaius lifted an arched brow and complied. Dance said, “Rainey wasn’t always a self-righteous bitch.”

Severus looked at his children in the field, letting his mind drift. Dance began swinging, the chains of the swing screeching noisily. “When we were kids she used to be wild. She was married by the time she was sixteen. Had to, if you know what I mean. Her husband was a good ol’ boy. You know the type, a man who loved beer, dogs and guns. He died in a hunting accident about ten years after Clay was born...

“I was in Vietnam and when I came back, she had changed. It was God’s will that her sinner of a husband died.” Dance sighed. “She only got worse when she met Livia; hated her even before she found out about her being a witch, told me she was stuck up. Our family travelled with the military, so we didn’t have to see her much, but every time we came back, it seemed that she indulged that boy more and was more religious. When Gaius told us he was gay, I thought that was the last straw with her. We didn’t see her for years after that.”

Severus looked at Dance, but saw a little boy and his broken father at a gravesite in Ireland, sobbing as Aunt Mena’s remains were lowered into the ground. He wondered what had become of young Ian and Uncle Rhuidry. He should have looked them up after Lily died. He felt a familiar wash of guilt.

“Nine eleven brought her back to us. I think a lot of people started thinking about how short life was after they saw all that destruction. I know I did.” Dance said after a brief pause. “I should have listened to Livia when she said not to answer the phone when Rainey called. She was too far gone.”

“Come on in, Severus, so you can hear her tell me I told you so.” Dance heaved himself from the swing with a moan. “You may as well get used to the sound of those words since you’re getting married. Women just love saying them.”

Dance put his arm around Severus’s shoulder. “Welcome to the family, Son. You’ve just braved your first full on Dance family shindig.”

Severus laughed and followed the man into the house, beginning to feel the acceptance that had eluded him his entire life.


	29. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was red-moused by Jilliane. Any remaining mistakes are my own.

The last of the holidays ended with Joseph Pony learning of Miss DuPre's abuse at the hands of various rapists, or johns, as she referred to them. Severus had never seen his charge in such a temper. Frankly, if he had not known him better, he might have scared Snape. Joseph Pony had the same look upon his face that Severus had seen on both the Black brothers and Albus on one notable occasion.

As the Old Woman had related to Severus, the Lakota were known for their hot tempers and long memories. Severus knew the boy's ire would have to wear off, much like his own temper. The Potions Master began re-examining his own life, denuding all his past actions of the justifications that had allowed him to survive so long as a spy. The conclusions he came to about himself, startled him. Almost thirty years was stretching the carrying of a grudge, perhaps it was time he let go of his anger at both the male Potters. He might even be able to forgive himself for his own actions some day as well, and tell Antonia.

He shook his head to clear it. The boy was the problem at the moment, and Severus' patience, while longer than it had been, was only so pliant. He would speak to Joseph Pony about his involvement in the Christmas Day Incident as he had dubbed it in his own mind, if the boy still seemed reluctant to see reason.

At least by the end of a fortnight, the boy began speaking to Severus again, but in clipped tones and monosyllables. He blamed Severus for not letting him extract his own pound of flesh from the odious cousin. Severus blamed himself as well. Had it been either of the women he cared for, he too would have wanted to deal with the miscreant, however, Severus had known the high price such actions would bring on the boy, and had acted as his parent.

Joseph Pony entered the laboratory, his hair tied back, his lab-coat hanging off him in messy dissarray, and the now mandatory latex gloves hanging from his pocket. Severus greeted him coolly and turned his attention back to the newest information that Pansy had turned up on the nature of the Werewolf Curse.

She had begun a library search in the Muggle stacks at the University of Oklahoma library and had come up with a probable target for the curse. A thing called a phage, a sub-viral particle that infected bacteria. These particles injected their own DNA into the genes of the existing bacteria, substantially changing their production of certain chemicals, and altering the way in which the bacterium interacted with the host. Severus had read the article several times and even with his knowledge of the Muggle studies of biochemistry, microbiology and biology, he was having a difficult time understanding the jargon-infested language in which it had been written. The next leap, after he comprehended what this phage creature did, was synthesising the information within the framework of magical theory. He knew he had his work cut out for him.

Mrs. Zabini still tended towards flights of fancy, but the medicines had begun to work most efficiently of late, and her concentration was better than it had ever been as far as Severus had observed. Perhaps there was something to the rumours of hereditary madness in the Parkinson line.

He had not realised he had paused in his reading until he heard his son's voice breaking through the haze of his thoughts. "Dad, can we talk?"

Severus raised a brow in the way he always did to begin correcting Joseph Pony's blatant misuse of the English language. The boy ignored him as he pressed on. "I've been talking to Blaise about things that happened back in England. He told me to ask you."

Severus placed his notes in the article he was reading, preparing himself for the boy's horror at his actions. Zabini knew some, but not all of what Severus had done, but the part he knew was damning enough. He folded his hands over his midsection, a gesture he had seen Albus do many times during difficult discussions. It seemed to centre him as it had done Albus. "Ask your questions, Mr. Red Horse."

Joseph Pony asked after "Dad, I'd like to know what you did during that war you guys had. Was it true that you were a spy?"

&*&*&

_Albus gazed across the small, almost dainty table between the two men, his gaze, normally warm and grandfatherly, grim behind his half-moon spectacles. "It will be time soon, Severus."_

_The Potions Master ran a long, stained finger over the rim of a bone china cup, not letting the dismay that lanced through him show on his always inscrutable face. Albus leaned forward and touched Severus, his unmarred hand shaking against the pain of the curse lacing his body with Dark magic and poisons. "Severus, my boy..."_

_"Save your breath, Albus." Severus answered without his usual bite. It just wasn't in him tonight. "I shall do as you ask, as well you know. The choice has been taken from me."_

_Albus busied himself with the pouring of the tea and placed two shortbread biscuits on the saucer before handing it off to Severus. "Have you made sufficient preparations for the event?"_

_"Meaning?" Severus gripped the plate as if it were a lifeline. "Have I successfully dredged up enough hate for you to kill you?"_

_Albus gave a wispy laugh, a ghost of his usual mirth-filled ululation. "My boy, I have no doubt the hatred you feel will not be directed at anyone but yourself. It is your way."_

_"You know me well." Severus stirred his tea idly, noting with amusement the colour of the cup had changed from white to a very Slytherin green with the heat of the beverage it contained. "But not so well. I do hate you for the role you've commanded me to play. You have been more to me than just an employer as you well know."_

_Albus looked away from Severus, the light from the fire glinting on his glasses, obscuring his eyes behind a sheen of light. He did not speak as he sipped from his own Gryffindor-coloured cup. Severus resisted the urge to speak, knowing anything else he said would subject him to the maudlin maunderings of the Headmaster._

_"Thank you, Severus," Albus finally answered. "I do know what that admission cost you, and what your duty to me will bring. Please forgive me."_

_"I cannot, Albus." Severus stood jerking his robes around him, a shield against the prying eyes of one more person. "If I do..."_

_Albus probed him with his shrewd gaze, not quite Legilimancy, but weighing just the same. "If you forgive me, you might have to forgive yourself, Severus. I know the weight of that type of guilt."_

_Severus exited the room without a backward glance, wishing once more that he had chosen differently. He might have been married with those six children he had once dreamt of so long ago. He might even have had Lily. He strode into the night-blackened corridors feeling the heavy weight of his promises and his duties._

_Things must come to a head, and soon. Severus could not stand anymore of these evenings with Albus._

&*&*&

Severus finished his recitation, his head turned away from the boy, unable to bear the look of horror he knew he would see on Joseph Pony's face when he did finally look. He noted that the bright spring sun had sunk in the sky, leaving a red smudge on the horizon. Mari entered, silently bringing tea and a light repast, her expression grim as she laid it out before the two men. Severus suppressed the urge to sigh as Mari left. "So, there you have my life. It wasn't pretty."

The boy remained silent as the moments ticked by on the old-fashioned clock that Severus insisted on having to supplement the _Tempus_ Charm. Severus rose. "Please, ward the doors when you leave this evening. I shall understand if you don't wish to return home."

He observed the hunched shoulders of the youth as Joseph Pony twisted his hair between two fingers, letting the raven-black strings glide between finger and thumb. Severus left the boy, willing him to return, knowing he would not. The weight of his own sins had never felt heavier than they were now.

It was fortunate that Antonia was on a business trip for the week. Severus could not stand for her to see his anguish. He cursed himself and his stupidity at becoming attached to the two children, knowing what he was.

Stella and Miss Loco greeted him at the door, the girl now as tall as her cousin with her recent growth spurt. He would have to purchase new clothing for her soon. Lengthening charms only did so much. He retreated to his room, barely sparing more than a moment with the girl.

At some point in his telling of his story, he had begun having phantom pains that boded ill for his night of rest. He slipped into his nightclothes, a soft pair of cotton trousers made out of some stretchy material. Antonia had bought them for him as one of her gifts. Once in his bed, he cast _Aguamenti_ into the tumbler he kept by his bed and then swallowed two of the stronger Muggle pain pills and some of his own analgesic potion. He settled into bed and waited for the sleep that would most likely never come.

&*&*&

"Dad." Joseph Pony's voice was soft in the gloom as Severus struggled to consciousness, grasping his wand even as he realised the voice was not threatening him. Joseph Pony approached, his form coming to rest at the end of the bed.

Severus said, his voice husky with sleep, "What is it, Joseph Pony?"

"I just wanted to tell you... thanks for telling me everything." The boy sat on the bed, his weight causing Severus a small amount of pain. "You were a real warrior. I never thought I'd meet one."

Severus rolled over on his side, watching the boy, his struggle evident merely in his presence in his father's room. "Is that all you wished to say, son?"

"No, sir." Joseph Pony ran his hand over his unbound hair. "I wanted to say, I understand why you did what you did at Christmas. I... I didn't before. You want me to make better decisions than my old man or you. I would have... I don't know what I would have done if I had been the one to talk to that bastard. I have my old man's temper. I always hated that about me."

Severus smiled, even though the boy could not see. "I see you and I have another thing in common. I, too, have my father's more volatile disposition. It has always been a negative aspect of my somewhat limited personality, to be sure."

"Damn, Dad." Joseph Pony said. "You never give yourself a break, do you?"

Severus paused before answering, "I suppose I don't."

"I just wanted to say, I think you're really... great," the boy said, rising. "You don't hear that enough from me."

Severus remained silent, more stunned than anything. Joseph Pony leaned over the bed and said with a brief hug, "I guess I love you."

"I suppose I feel the same for you and the imp." Severus answered, his lips twitching. "Now, off to bed. I will expect a full series of potions tomorrow to make up for your slacking today."

"Yeah, I know." Joseph Pony answered, his tone resigned. "Night, Dad."

"Good night, Son."

"Dad?" Joseph Pony paused at the door. "Next time let me take care of Char's problems. She's my girl, you know? I promise not to hurt anyone too bad, really."

Severus sighed. "Of course, you are a man now."

"I have been for a while. Trust me, you know?"

&*&*&

_He dreamt that night of gliding clouds and open plains, flattened buttes poking out of the ground like the broken teeth of some ancient monster. Coyote greeted him with his shining yellow eyes and pointed teeth. "You came."_

_"Yes, I did." Severus crouched on the ground, his aches gone in that magical way of dream wanderings. "Why did you summon me, sir?"_

_Coyote waved his hand in a gesture that Severus forever associated with the natives of this vast land, dismissive and inclusive at once. "You are impatient, like all white men. Wait."_

_Severus watched, his dream eyes never tiring as he saw the progression of time and rivers across the deserted land. Hawk came and spoke to Coyote in the language of birds, then Spider came with Hare on his heels. Severus watched and learned as they spoke of the past, even though he knew he would never remember their stories upon waking. He sat, dozy in his wait, as a storm gathered on the horizon. His spirit joined it, but soon broke away bringing others with him. The tempest raged, nearly rending Severus from the dream, yet Coyote spoke and Severus returned uneasily, his spirit rent with the many deaths caused directly or indirectly by his hand. The storm passed and finally Coyote got to the point. "Look at yourself."_

_Severus did, and saw the myriad of tears and bleeding holes in his flesh. He expected no less. Coyote said, "I sent Kaya to you before, but you don't listen so well. What do you see when you look?"_

_"My sins."_

_Coyote laughed, a half-howl that echoed over the land. "You missing anything?"_

_"No." Severus answered. "No, I am not."_

_"Them people you killed. You didn't want to do it, even when you followed the half-man." Coyote said. "You gotta see that, boy. The warrior's path is always like this, with the little cuts and pains. It's never easy."_

_"I never intimated that it was, sir." Severus attempted to keep the snarky tone out of his voice, but failed. "So, you've brought me to this place to show me the obvious. Thank you."_

_Coyote howled his laughter again. He ended the progression of the sound with three yips, his concave belly shaking under the force of the motion. "Old Woman told me you was something. Listen and learn, _wasicu_. This is the last time I speak to you and more than I speak to most. You did not destroy your soul. You have been forgiven, even by the fire-haired one and her man. They knew what they were getting into when they fought Him. You were just the messenger. Their fate was already made once the seer spoke."_

_"I suppose you are saying that I must forgive myself."_

_Coyote sighed heavily, waving his brushy tail in the air in annoyance. "You will, or cause everyone around you to suffer. Think on that, boy."_

_"I betrayed her."_

_Coyote laughed again, this time reminiscent of the distant thunder that still hovered on the landscape. "She never was yours to betray, boy. Never."_

Severus woke with a start, the alarm sounding next to his ear. He thought he could hear the sound of receding thunder rolling over the hills, but dismissed it in the brightness of the morning.

&*&*&

Stella greeted Severus with a warm hug and a giggling rendition of the dream she had the night before, something about several boys in her class losing all their hair in something called a S'mores making incident. Severus looked at her bemusedly as he gathered the items necessary to plait her hair. Stella sat before him as Joseph Pony entered from the outer door.

"Dad, I finally heard from that medicine keeper in Antlers. You know the Choctaw one? He just called" Joseph Pony began. "I asked him about what you needed to do and... he said we need to adopt you. He said he had a dream about your name last night, so he knows what the spirits want him to do."

Severus paused, his fingers suspended in the silky-coarse hair. "Will I have to take your name?"

Stella giggled and said, "Not that kind of adoption, Daddy. We just kind of make a vow to be your family and you make a vow to be ours."

"Oh, well then, I suppose it sounds... acceptable if not already in place," Severus said over his growing mirth. "I shouldn't like to be Severus Snape-Cadeaux-Red Horse. It would make signing documents nearly impossible."

Joseph Pony tilted his head. "You're in a good mood."

"I am." Severus replied. "I had a pleasant dream last evening."

Joseph Pony pulled a face. "Please don't tell me it involved Toni. Please."

"I think that would be romantic, meeting her in your dreams." Stella chimed in. "When are you gonna marry her, anyway, Daddy?"

Severus felt his lips twitch into the little secret smile he knew annoyed the children so much. "I suppose when I do, Miss. Now, go tuck in. Mari made breakfast for us this morning."

"Well, make it soon," Stella retorted as she rose. "You're not getting any younger, you know."

"Yes, my dear, I am positively ancient." Severus said, his mood still light. "When shall we affect this adoption?"

Joseph Pony consulted a piece of parchment that he had tucked in his shirt pocket. "He said he had a date open in March."

"Very well." Severus replied. "Will there be more required of me for this Healing, or should I plan on giving my first born to this shaman?"

Joseph Pony turned sharply. "It's really important that you have this, Dad. You need to be grounded in this world to go into the spirit world. The medicine keeper said you've already been there with the spirits. Don't take it so lightly."

Severus drew apace of his son. "I do apologise, Joseph Pony. In my rare moment of levity, I seemed to have overstepped. Do forgive me, please."

"You talk so pretty, how could I not forgive you." The boy turned to the kitchen. "Now, come on, Stella ain't the only one who needs to eat. Toni will kill me if you've lost weight while she's gone."

&*&*&

_Albus entered Severus' office, his glaring robes nearly glowing in the purposely dark and cold room. Severus levitated a stack of books off the chair across from his desk, glowering at the prospect of yet another heart to heart with his employer. He had been on the job for a decade and the Headmaster still insisted on these little impromptu meetings when he felt something might trouble Severus. After moments of considering silence, Severus finally said sourly, "What is it, Albus? Has another Muggleborn come to light?"_

_For years now it had been Albus' habit to force Severus to escort Muggleborns and their frightened and sometimes offensive families to Diagon Alley. He supposed the old man saw it as his penance, but did acknowledge the Headmaster's assignment might have more to do with Severus' background than any consideration of his black sins._

_His latest had been a young girl, a know-all, who had spent more time trying to impress him than to listen to his explicit instructions. Fortunately, her parents had been rational though indulgent of the little blighter._

_Albus chuckled, "No, Severus, the last was Miss Granger. I'm sure you handled the situation admirably."_

_The Potions Master leaned back in his seat, a position that spoke of false ease in the man's presence. Yes, Severus was fond of Albus Dumbledore, he just did not trust him. The man was a Chinese puzzle box. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, Albus?"_

_"My boy, I just came to thank you." Albus began, putting Severus immediately on alert, even though his demeanour gave no outward sign. Albus continued, "This year will be trying for you, I think, and I came to thank you for your continued loyalty."_

_"This ploy is a rather ham-handed, don't you think?" Severus answered, his lips curling downward. "If you wish to ensure my continued support of the promise I made to you for Lily, why not just extract a Wizard's Oath from me, or better yet, an Unbreakable Vow?"_

_Albus let out a gusty sough of breath. "Please, Severus. I would never require that of you. I feel quite strongly that you are a man of your word."_

_Severus' let his gaze slip to his left arm and then back to Albus' clear blue twinkle. "Yes, you can certainly rely on my past actions for an indication of my future ones."_

_Albus gave no response as he summoned tea. After preparing the brew for both of them, he said. "I never gave you enough credit when you were younger, Severus."_

_"I never gave you reason to give me that credit, Albus." Severus answered tartly as he took a shortbread biscuit from the pile on the tray._

_"My boy, life... I... have not treated you well. You deserve more than my gratitude."_

_Severus bit down savagely into the biscuit, scattering crumbs over his pristine robes. Once swallowed, he said, "I will protect Potter's son, Albus. You have no concerns on that front."_

_"I had hoped you would see him as part of Lily, Severus." Albus replied easily. "He is, you know."_

_Severus seethed inwardly. The gall of the old man to remind him of all that his actions had cost him. Lily was the pinnacle of his failure and his first. "Leave, Albus. I have a lesson plan to finish before the staff meeting."_

_Albus said, "There is more to life than duty, Severus."_

_Severus watched the wizard banish the tea as he stood. He exited the room, with Severus' dull gaze on his back. Into the gloom that Albus' wake left, Severus said, "Not for me, Albus. Never for me."_

&*&*&

Antonia returned Friday and Severus arranged for both the children to be occupied during the weekend. He needed time to do what he wanted to do. He hoped she would understand.

Mari came back to his cottage, her expression grimly worried. "Is the Potions Master certain about leaving that Pensieve in Dr. Atonia's room?"

Severus attempted to ignore the being, focusing his concern on the meal he prepared. He hoped the Pensieved memories would suffice for most of his story. He knew he had given Potter a good deal of his pertinent memories, but had more concerning Lily. Enough to last a lifetime, if that existence were very short. Severus snorted. "You did leave the note?"

"Yes, Mari did." The Brownie joined Severus at the cabinet, hovering as her kind did to reach the surface. "At least let me cook for you. You will make a nice meal, but Mari will make one that is divine."

Severus relinquished his hold on the knife with which he chopped the solid white onion. "Perhaps some divine intervention would be helpful."

"No," Mari answered after due consideration. "The Potions Master just needs to say what has been in his heart. You've loved Doctor Antonia for some time, Mari thinks."

Severus retreated to the table, resting his head in his hands. "I feel as if I am betraying her."

Mari stopped chopping long enough to cast a a look at him. "Mari thinks that the one Severus speaks of never was his to betray with his body or his heart."

"Funny, that's what the... " Severus rose, shaking off the dream of a few days ago. "For Merlin's sake, don't make the pieces of onion so large. The meal should be pleasant and it won't be with great gobs of onion in it."

Mari simply smiled. "Then you chop, Mari will cook."

&*&*&

Severus insisted that they eat before they discussed what Antonia had seen in the Pensieve. Once the meal was over, she patted her lips daintily and sipped her wine as Mari cleared the dishes from the table with a simple spell. She popped out with a soft clap of magic. Antonia, looking decidedly unruffled, observed. "So, I take it the Pensieve was meant to show my why I should steer clear of you."

"Not exactly, but if you wish..."

"Goddammit, Severus."Antonia threw the cloth she held down to the table and rose. "It gets awfully damned tiring to have to reassure you every time we have a discussion that I'm not going to leave you."

She strode to his side of the table, taking him by the shoulders. "I need you to repeat after me: I, Severus Snape..."

He felt his face going stiff, and the anger rising until she kissed him. She drew away. "Repeat."

"I, Severus Snape." He rolled his eyes. "This is just ridiculous, Antonia. I do get your point..."

"Do hereby acknowledge..." she said over his objections. He repeated her words with a grimace. "That Antonia Dance will not leave Severus for any reason other than death. That I, Severus Snape, am worthy of love, forgiveness and the ocassional kick in the pants when I get too snippy. Nothing I will do will be grounds for Antonia leaving him short of... You're not planning on having a mistress, are you?"

As Severus finished the sentence, he smirked, "Do you want me to repeat the last bit?"

"Ass." She kissed him again. "I hope you get the point. I love you, and short of you doing something completely out of character, like hitting me, abusing one of our children or you having a mistress, I can't imagine leaving you. Your past is your past. Let it be there."

"I still love her." Severus said. "I am sorry."

Antonia moved him with a simple spell, settling in his lap as if she belonged there. "Yeah, and? You have room for more than one person in your heart, right? I still love Thierry. Love doesn't die simply because the people we loved moved on, passed on, or changed."

Severus watched her hand progress across his chest, loosening his tie and then his top button. She kissed him again, this time lingering and heated. He opened his mouth, welcoming her invasion. Once finished, she gasped, "I love you, Severus Snape, no matter how stupid you were when you were a kid."

"I believe..." Severus looked at her, feeling suddenly shy and exposed. He swept his lashes up, to observe the warmth that was reserved just for him in Antonia's eyes. "I love you also."

The rest of the evening and most of the weekend was spent expressing that newly admitted love in more tangible ways.


	30. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was red-moused by Jilliane. Any remaining mistakes are my own.

February gave way to a blustery early spring that left the compound drenched in torrential rain, sheeted in ice, or stiflingly hot and humid. Severus was used to colder springs, but not the changeable season that Oklahoma presented. He awaited his son and daughter in the pick-up truck, which had gotten a much needed overhaul at the local Wal-Mart the weekend before, after the strange sound in the engine had turned to knocking.

Today, he and the children were going to an Native American Healer so that he could start the process of his own, long awaited healing. He was to be adopted today, and named. Later in the week, after the ceremony was completed, he and Antonia were to marry. Severus repressed the urge to roll his eyes as he contemplated the prospect. He had become soft over the last three years. Somehow, the thought did not seem to bother him. He had hoped that Antonia might see them off, but she had seemed pre-occupied this morning during breakfast. He supposed it was just as well. Joseph Pony had stressed the importance of this ceremony to his people, and had made references that some aspects were not meant for non-tribal eyes.

Joseph Pony and Stella approached in their new clothes purchased for this day. Stella had her hair neatly tied in two plaits, her dress one that Severus had bought for the occasion. She beamed happily at Severus and took her seat in the middle of the cab of the truck. Joseph Pony joined them, carrying his cowboy hat, a black one he had purchased just for ceremony. He looked smart in his new red cowboy shirt and unfaded new jeans. He had his hair tied back in a single, thick plait adorned with his eagle feather. Severus suppressed a smile, remembering how his son had used that feather against him on their first meeting.

"It's gonna be official, Dad," the young man said as the truck roared to life. Severus felt the familiar warmth of belonging as Stella leaned her head against his shoulder. "I'm glad. We kind of all belong together, ennit?"

"Indeed," Severus answered, not betraying the warmth of his response.

Stella noted his attire, the robes purchased for her school dance which he had chaperoned. "You look nice, Daddy."

"Thank you, my dear," he answered, still not comfortable in the non-black attire, but convinced by the children that his normal black clothing would be inappropriate. "You look rather dashing yourself, Joseph Pony, Stella."

They drove through several small towns on the lonely stretch of state highway that ran from Heavener to Antlers where the Choctaw medicine keeper lived.

The town was nestled in-between two small rivers and quite picturesque for the area. The buildings were made of the native sandstone and the streets were not laid out on a grid the way the newer parts of the state were. Severus felt at home. They drove through the town to the meeting place designated in the hand-drawn map Joseph Pony consulted.

They stopped at a small cottage and Severus turned off the engine, surprised by the presence of yellow-spotted, curly-tailed dogs. Several greeted the children with solemn sniffs and wagging tails. Stella turned to Severus and took his hand, as Joseph Pony said, "We've got a fair hike to the ceremony site."

They made their way through the stunted, scraggly scrub-oak and Eastern deciduous forest, on an upwards slanting trail that meandered through the woods. Once the three entered the clearing, Severus stopped, thunderstruck by the crowd milling in the area. Antonia greeted him with a kiss and then the remainder of the staff from the compound joined him, shaking his hand before retreating. Miss Dupre greeted him with a shy kiss to the cheek before retreating. Gaius, Robert and Livia Dance greeted him, congratulating him on the adoption to take place. Severus held himself stiff, unable to define the emotions rippling through his mind with increasing strength. The Zabinis came next and Severus was surprised as his former students both hugged him. Blaise said, with voice thick with emotion, "I'm glad for you, Severus. I wish it could have been..."

Zabini turned away, ostensibly to take his wife to her seat, but from the choked tone of his voice, Severus knew he wanted to say more. He had felt at one time that he would have liked Zabini to be his son. Perhaps if the times they shared had been different, he would have been able to act on the impulse.

Joseph Pony introduced several of his cousins, joining the celebration from as far away as South Dakota, their expressions at once diffident and welcoming. All were dressed in their finest, most wearing a combination of traditional and western garb, their colourful clothing complimenting the festive atmosphere. Stella joined the younger members of the clan as Joseph Pony escorted a large-boned older man with flowing white hair, to the fore.

"Dad, this is Melvin Maytubbie."

The old man peered at Severus and jerked his head in gesture that said Severus was to follow him.

&*&*&

Antonia sat on his lap the weekend of his confession of love. She combed her fingers through the fine strands of hair on his chest, her breasts pressed solidly against him. "I've been getting hints from Stella about us setting a date." 

Severus hummed through his compressed lips. "She does seem to be stuck on that subject lately."

"What should I say?" Antonia asked just before she began nibbling on his neck, tasting the skin around his scars with a flicking tongue. "We really haven't discussed it yet."

Severus responded with a throaty chuckle, "I do believe both you and Stella are manipulating me."

"What, you don't want to rush into marriage with the first woman who loves you?." Antonia said without heat, her fingers working at the buttons of his shirt, loosening them one by one. "Why is it that I can't get enough of you?"

"I am simply irresistible, Madam," Severus answered with a wry smile. "I feel the same way about you. Shall we adjourn to a more comfortable location?"

"Mmmm." Antonia hummed, her lips against his neck once more. "That sounds good."

Severus hefted her from his lap, feeling suddenly bereft as she stood. "Why not after my adoption?"

"In March?" Antonia asked. "That would be nice, but I don't want you to feel we're rushing things. Are you ready for marriage?"

Severus answered smoothly and without pause,"I believe so."

"God, you're such a smooth talker." Antonia drew him up by his hands. "I'll race you to the bed, last one has to be on top."

Severus responded with alacrity. By using a little bit of Slytherin subterfuge, he was the first to the bed. 

&*&*&

In the end, the ceremony had included not only Severus, but the Zabinis as well. Blaise had been as shocked as Severus when the old Healer had drawn them to the circle and pronounced them all family.

Blaise looked thunderstruck as Joseph Pony greeted him as brother and Stella greeted Pansy as sister. "Erm... I don't want you to think badly of me, but how does this affect Pansy and I? I mean, we're not committing incest or anything are we?"

Joseph Pony broke into guffaws and Severus had a hard time containing his own mirth. Stella rolled her eyes as Melvin Maytubbie explained the intricacies of the ceremony and how their marriage was unaffected since their adoption was not really legal, merely symbolic. Blaise flushed and Pansy said, in her high, clear voice, "Oh, I was looking forward to doing something so naughty."

Severus waited as the crowd gathered and was surprised to see the members of both his families assume seats. One of Joseph Pony's cousins began singing, a Muggle song of dubious quality. Severus turned a deaf ear to the lyrics as soon as he realised how inane they were.

Joseph Pony caught his attention. "Dad, I know you were supposed to go to the County Courthouse at the end of the week to marry Toni, but since all the family is here, and you already have the license..."

The young man broke off, scooting the sharp toe of his cowboy boot through the leaf litter. "Well, we'd like Mr. Maytubbie to marry you two today. He's got a state licence and everything."

Severus followed the boy's gaze as he peered outside the circle into the awakening forest. Antonia stood at the entrance dressed in a white wedding dress of antique vintage. The Potions Master's heart sped up as she approached, her eyes cast down demurely. She stopped before him and he took her hand, drawing it to his lips. She asked, "You don't mind, do you?"

"I suspect neither of us have any choice in the matter anyway." He tempered the statement with a wry grin. "It just means we can start on the remainder of the half-dozen children. We're not getting any younger, according to Stella."

Antonia laughed as Pansy approached with a round bouquet of peace roses. "We'll do just that."

"Treat him well. I always fancied him, you know." Pansy thrust the bouquet into her hands and then pulled Severus down to kiss him on the cheek, much to his chagrin.

He felt his cheeks heat. "I suspect your regard for my person had more to do with my position than my charms."

"Oh, no, Lovegood, Weasley, and Greengrass all wanted you. It was your voice, and Patil said you had quite the arse. I just fancied that I might be able to have you." Pansy said with an insouciant sniff and a wriggle of her fingers. "Just take care of him, he's special to me. Oh, and Antonia?"

"Yes?" Antonia's expression was almost comically bland.

Pansy took the doctor's hand, kissing her cheek as she said, "Welcome to the family."

&*&*&

_Severus was five and being led to school by his father.. Daddy had been sacked because of the Damned Unions and their Strikes. It meant that Daddy had to take Severus to school during the day while Mummy went to the church charities and scrounged for food, while Daddy cursed a lot and watched more football on the telly. Severus smiled up at his daddy, who smelled funny this morning. The little boy had heard Mummy crying last night, but Mummy cried a lot when Daddy smelled funny. The days were always good after that though, unless Mummy smelled funny too. On those days, Severus either didn't go to school because neither of his parents remembered to get him up, or he had to wait until lunch to eat. Severus hated to be hungry more than he hated wearing someone else's cast-off clothes._

_They came to the crosswalk where Daddy usually stopped to let the boy make his way across to the schoolyard and into the modern building with its hissing heat and new book smells. Daddy squeezed his hand. "You be a good boy today. Don't want to hear about you pullin' one o'yer stunts."_

_"No, sir." Severus answered, still smarting with embarrassment from his last accident. Mummy had said it was natural for a boy like him to make things float when he was bored in class, but Severus never saw anyone else do it, so he wondered._

_The little boy, in his ill-fitting clothes that were gleaned from various charities, began to walk away with a shy wave of his hand to his daddy. Daddy waved back, his red eyes bleary and tired. He called, "Son!"_

_Severus stopped, really not wanting to be late, but conditioned to listen to his daddy. "Yes, sir?"_

_"You make me proud." Severus' daddy said over the distant rumbling of a lorry. Severus hitched his pants as the belt slid to the side and his shirt popped out of the trousers. He didn't know how to answer. As his daddy turned on his heel and shambled back to Spinner's End, Severus wondered if his daddy was giving a command or making a statement. He thought about his parting words for the rest of the day._

&*&*&

As they repeated the vows, placed the rings on each other's fingers and were bonded, Severus felt content. Joseph Pony stood to his side, beaming as if he had received the biggest serving of the Christmas pudding. Stella stood beside Antonia, with an equally luminous expression. Once the medicine keeper finished the ceremony and bade the bride and groom to kiss, Joseph Pony gave a whoop of delight, the kind Severus remembered from the reservation after they had cornered one of the more reluctant stray cattle. Several men in the gathering, Antonia’s father and brother amongst them answered his cry.

Severus kissed his bride chastely as she giggled against his lips. When he drew away, tears glimmered in her lashes. "You are so handsome."

"You are perfect." Severus answered as he drew one drop of moisture from her lashes with his potions-stained finger.

Antonia snorted as she replied, "It's about time you noticed. Let's blow this joint as soon as possible. I think Mama and Daddy have a reception for us planned at the VFW, but I've got some nicer things in mind for us to be doing."

Severus drew her to him, letting his chin rest on the top of her head. "That sounds marvelous, but what of the children?"

"It's always about duty to you, isn't it?" Antonia said with a smile to ameliorate the bald statement. "I've made arrangements. Mama and Daddy will be keeping Stella while JP, and the others have a nice night on the town. You and I will be occupied for the next six days."

Severus ran his hands up her back, feeling heated and antsy. "Well, we will make our appearance and leave as soon as possible."

Antonia shivered against him. "You know, your voice was the first thing I noticed about you. It is so... Mmmm."

Severus caught Pansy gazing at them with knowing look before she turned to her own husband. "I've been told something similar today by another woman."

"Do I need to worry?" Antonia pulled away, and Severus drew her back with a brief brush of his lips to hers.

Stella said, "Awwww. That's so sweet."

"Imp. Pure and simple." Severus answered, breaking the kiss. "I am not sweet. I am a Potions Master."

He walked arm and arm with his daughter and his bride to the truck, feeling as he had on that long ago day with the yellow table. He was a cowboy, riding into the sunset with his girl seated pillion. He had a world to explore and it was bright and new again.

 

FIN

**Author's Note:**

>  _Wasicu_ : Lakota. White man. From the Sweetgrass Lakota language website. 
> 
> _Kun si'_ : Lakota. Grandmother. 
> 
> _Wichihmunge_ : Lakota. Wizard. From Paul Morrison, Sweetgrass Lakota language website. 
> 
> Thanks to Paul Morrison, from the Sweetgrass Lakota language website, for all his help and research. Sorry for the incorrect dialectical marks, my computer can only do so much. 
> 
> Thanks for reading. Please take the time to let me know what you think.


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